


Sphere of the Ancients

by Serriya (Keolah)



Series: Harlequin Romance [4]
Category: Bolo - Keith Laumer, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artificial Intelligence, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Dyson Sphere, Eldar, Established Relationship, F/M, Humanoid Animals, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2006-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 66,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Warp storm sends Tarna and Melaran off course, leaving them to uncover the strange remnants of a long forgotten past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warp Storm

After a nice elven bath and like relaxations, Tarna figured it was about time to get moving.

Melaran could find himself growing entirely too ready and willing to retreat into a private and personal world and leave the rest of the universe to its own devices, but had to reluctantly acknowledge that it probably wouldn't do much toward removing the tendency toward extremes that he needs to avoid. Besides, they did have a destination in mind and new sights to see, an entire new universe to explore and enjoy.

He could only hope, as the sleek Eldar craft left Torn Elkandu and returned to the calmer streams of the Ethereal, that the Gods of this place weren't quite so... mad? No, he couldn't place much hope in that, nor to avoid them when he'd so recently invited the looniest of the lot in, but... well, time would tell whether they might survive the experience and not be _too_ drawn into things best left alone.

Tarna settled in and helpfully gave the coordinates for Khizsalr. "How long will it take to get there?"

Melaran entered the coordinates and watched as the course arranges itself in the node, then stretched. "Looks like we've got about eighteen hours to kill," he replied, "Barring any turbulence that may arise."

Tarna gave a nod, and stretched a bit. "Time enough to get a bit of practicing in, eh?"

"Always," Melaran responded with a nod and smile. "You could use a bit more work with the armor and me..." He chuckled and sighed. "I suppose I should see about trying a bit of control work, maybe try my hand at meditation yet again."

That hadn't been going particularly well, too many shifting emotions were disrupting concentration of late, but it was something he _had_ to work on. Tarna nodded to him, giving him a bit of a grin and a little kiss before heading back to do that.

Melaran remained at the controls for a time, making use of the quiet to attempt to return to the meditative trance that had once been nothing more than second nature to an Eldar. Some small amount of success is gained in it, managing to quiet the seas of rolling emotion by degrees and gaining a glimpse of a possible Path to take... and was suddenly snapped out of it as an alarm sounds.

Snapping sharply out of the state, it took a few moments to sort through the readings that the warnings were based on, unfortunately too late to avoid the hellish edge of the storm that rampaged the Ethereal for as far as the eye or instrument can see.

The recent destruction of the Wheel of Chaos that Zuna had created had spun off a number of small storms in spite of the fact that most of the Ethereal was fairly calm. But this one was much more powerful than them, threatening to tear the ship apart.

Melaran dumped as much power as could be spared into the shields surrounding the ship, silently cursing Shazmar, Bob, and any other gods with malicious and insane senses of humor as he struggled to navigate the rampant energies and keep them in one piece. Naturally, of course, his blame was fairly well misplaced. Multicolored lightning streaked across the shields, wearing them down slowly as if trying to crush the ship like an egg.

Tarna, apparently having realized something was wrong, came up behind him and said, "What's going on?"

"Warp storm, a nasty one," Melaran replied via telepathy, already attuned to the gestalt and finding it simpler to stay in that mode. "I don't it, but may have to do a crash translation if we can't find a way out of it and just hope that we come out someplace quieter. The ship's not going to take much more of this hammering."

Tarna took a seat and started to draw upon her Dream Magic to protect the ship, using it to augment the shields and maintain a field of calm around them. It was pretty rough but the shields seemed to be holding now for the moment.

"Very nice," Melaran offered simply in compliment, leaving only fragmentary attention to the shielding now as she took over maintaining it. "If you can hold that steady, we might be able to break through to the other side intact." Provided, of course, that the instrumentation wasn't so scrambled that they'd been going in circles the entire time.

Tarna focused on the shields, her face contorted with concentration as it was clearly taking a good deal of effort, and it seemed the shields were about to collapse entirely when they broke out of the storm again.

"I'll have to keep that option in mind, the next time we run across a freakish storm," Melaran sent with fond approval, tension ebbing slowly away as the storm is left behind. "Didn't even cross my mind to try something like that, too used to the ideal of digging in and praying I suppose."

He chuckled, checking through the readouts for signs of any other problems or dangers in continuing the course. Tarna sighed and sank back into her seat as she realized they were out of it, clearly exhausted. Aside from the fact that they were way, way off course, they seemed to be alright for the moment.

"Let's see if I can figure out where we are," Melaran sent, then glanced over at her with a quiet smile. "You should get some rest, or at least something to boost your energy a bit. I think everything's under control up here again."

Tarna gave a slight nod and stumbled back to rest. However, after she was gone, he realized that he couldn't figure out where the hell they'd ended up. Nothing nearby seemed to match up with anything on the charts.

Oh, that's not good, Melaran began to think a few times as he tried in vain to find a reference of any sort to work with. Finding oneself lost in the vastness of a plane that could span from one universe to the next would be high on the list of Bad Things he could think of. He worked at it a while longer, then reluctantly signaled Tarna that they may have a 'small problem'.

Tarna dragged herself back wearily and said, "What's wrong?"

Melaran gestured her to take a seat, concern warring with worry at the present situation as he waited for her to do so. "I'd really rather not say it but..." He sighed and closed his eyes. "We're well and truly lost. The storm left us somewhere that I haven't been able to find in the node in all this time."

Tarna sat down and peered outside. "Well, what's nearby? Hmm, I'll cast 'Where the heck am I'..." She channeled a bit of Seeking and frowned a bit. "Okay, yeah, we're ... way off course. We're not even in the same universe anymore. I don't recognize this one."

"Perhaps looking further afield will provide a clue?" Melaran asked thoughtfully, then chuckled. "Though that would probably require a great deal more power or control than either of us possesses. Which would leave the not wholly pleasant prospect of translating and taking a look around by more mundane means."

Tarna sighed wearily a bit. "Well, here's to hoping then... I've no idea where we are..."

"As you say," Melaran replied with manifest reluctance, not greatly enthused by the idea but not seeing much else in the way of options. The thrum of the warp engines changes tempo, building the power to pierce the ethereal boundary, and then suddenly descended once more as the tranquil sight of normal space enfolded them once more. "Nothing in the immediate area to be hazardous," he remarked as he worked with the sensors.

"And no star nearby either," he frowned, tweaking the sensors a bit at some unusual readings. "How odd..."

"What's that?" Tarna said, trying to scan around the area a bit with a little Seeking.

"There's a gravitational field consistent with the mass of a solar system, but..." Melaran gestured to the screens looking out, "No star to go with it. Scanning further along the well." He hummed lightly as he tunes the instruments in that direction, then arched a brow, "What, is _that_?"

He shared the sensory data with her mentally, revealing a _huge_ object near the source of the gravitic field.

"The readings are... very weird, let's get a little closer for a better look." Nudging the craft forward, they drifted closer to the gargantuan phenomena and began to discern more detail. "It would appear... to be a designed construct..." he remarked in quiet awe at the sheer scale of the idea.

"Holy shit," Tarna replied. "But by whom... and for what?"

"I have NO idea," Melaran laughed lightly, the dire circumstances of their situation being overcome by the nudging of curiosity as he looks to her with a grin. "Want to go see?"

Tarna grinned. "Well, nobody's started shooting at us yet... Shall we see if the natives are friendly?"

"There's definitely a lot of power flowing in the thing, but none of the surges that would indicate weapon readiness or even an active scan," Melaran shrugged and chuckled. "I'll try sending a standard hail on all frequencies as we approach, see if anyone's awake in there."

Tarna gave a short nod, still staring at the thing, and yawned a bit. No response was forthcoming, which made Melaran frown a bit as he shared the readings with her that show that something is obviously _receiving_ them.

"That's strange..." he tepped absently, gentling the craft on a graceful arc toward the construct, curiosity being tempered by a bit more caution. They were not that far from it, in terms of space combat at any rate, when he cursed mentally and dashed away at a sudden energy surge.

Even Eldar reflexes were no match for what guided that surge, or the millisecond precision in timing, and a flare of energy surrounded the ship. A wrenching sensation was felt and a momentary displacement found them basking in the light of a gentle golden sun.

Tarna blinked for a moment. "What the--" she said aloud, staring at the screen.

Melaran studied the sensor returns intently, the echo of the teleportation still vaguely resonating in his senses.

"We're _inside_ it," he teps lightly, frowning at the incredible amount of data now pouring through. "This is incredible!" The star was at the center of the construct, another solid celestial body orbiting it and serving to provide periods of night for the vast lands growing along the _inside_ of the sphere.

Tarna stared around the place with awe. "What _is_ this place? I've never seen anything quite like this before..."

"Neither have I..." Melaran replied thoughtfully, the sheer mass of data accumulating in the node staggering. "It appears to be an enclosed solar system, with the inner 'wall' of the sphere being roughly at a distance compatible with sustaining abundant life."

"This is incredible... Who could have built such a thing? And who lives here?" Questions largely rhetorical, obviously.

"This inner planet, though, seems to be a source of much of the power here," Melaran mused, the craft edging in that direction until a warning of building power emerged in the sensors and then edged the ship away. "And it would seem to be off-limits," he added, "power levels are returning to normal as we move away from it. Interesting."

Tarna frowned. "Some sort of control center or something, I'd assume..." She looked out at the inner surface of the sphere, staring at the forests, oceans, mountains, and deserts covering it.

Melaran set the fleet ship to cover an arc around the central star, collecting further scanner data along the way but remaining carefully beyond the approach to the dark-shrouded planet. "I haven't seen any sign of access ports of any sort." He shook his head with a chuckling sigh. "This might not have been a good idea. Looks like we're stuck."

"Well, there has to be something somewhere. Just a matter of finding it," Tarna replied. "And it might not be obvious, of course."

"Or it may be as plain as a planet before us." Melaran set the craft to continuing its course without his oversight and drew his attention inward, trying to focus. "Let's see if anything can be found with a bit of Seeking..."

The concept was still not finely tuned with him, but that attention turned outward and toward the celestial object. A line was left open to Tarna that she might see what he does. The dark-covered planet is definitely highly industrialized as structures of all shapes and sizes covered its surface entirely. No signs of life were detected, though there were signs of machines laboring endlessly at their mysterious tasks and mechanical constructs moving about with no sign of a controller. The survey was suddenly brought to a jarring, crashing halt, the image sheared and backlash resonating back to him.

Stiffening in the control couch, Melaran sucked in a sharp breath at the surge of pain inflicted by the interference and opened his eyes to look over at her. "What did you make of that?"

"Weird," Tarna replied, putting a comforting hand on him. "What could be causing that?"

"I would suspect the builders," Melaran replied thoughtfully, rubbing a temple. "And they're not looking for company. Let's see if we can find any other signs out on the 'surface' that will give us something more to work with." He slipped back into the craft's gestalt and examined the continuing deluge of data with a grimace. "There's so much of it, where to begin?"

"Any signs of advanced civilization there?" Tarna wondered.

"Bits here and there that suggest varying levels of society," Melaran frowned at the stream of data, searching for that particular trait and comparing them, "Nothing that I'd associate with the industry-heavy concentration on the dark planet though. For the most part, I'd say they're neo-barbarians at best, examples of what happened after the Empire of Man's collapse."

Tarna frowned. "Weird... But then, if you saw most Elkandu planets, they'd appear positively medieval at first glance, looks _can_ be deceiving sometimes...'

"True enough," Melaran agreed. "And it does look like some of the areas are at least _somewhat_ technologically capable. The diversity is amazing, and I have to wonder why there isn't a more uniform level across the board." He sighed quietly. "We're going to have to try at one of them if we want to get out of here, though. Just finished a basic sweep of the inner surface as we cleared the star... no sign of access ports."

"Teleportation then... Well, as long as we're here, let's take a look, shall we?"

"Teleportation indeed, and a powerful source of it at that," Melaran answered, then sorts through the data at her interest and points out a couple of areas. "These two would be the most likely spots to check, I think. The first has a slightly higher technology and population concentration along with signs of agriculture and the like. The second would appear to be a convergence of _two_ such entities in close proximity. I make the distinction since their detectable energies are on different wavelengths, indicating differing approaches to the matter. Whether they're allied, neutral, or hostile is anyone's guess. Similar signs of industry and agriculture are present, though the two seem to occupy separate ecological niches, forest and plains to be precise."

"Interesting," Tarna mused. "Well, let's head in and check it out, then."

"Do you have a preference as to which?' Melaran asked. "Either way is essentially a random chance, I think I'd rather trust your luck than mine of late." He chuckled.

"Not particularly, no. Although the presence of so many different civilizations in close proximity is curious..."

"Then so shall it be," Melaran replied and set course for the double-settled area, leaving the third behind on its arc of the 'world'.

As they neared, details became more distinct to the sensors and it could be seen that the plains people apparently occupied primarily along a series of canyons and a nearby collection of ruins. The forest dwellers were more scattered in the things that could be detected, but points of interest remained.

"Look here," he drew her attention to focus on a subdued, perhaps buried, power signature near each of the communities. "I wonder if they're aware of them?" he mused, engaging the cloaking field and approaching the separation point of the two nearby realms to land.

"Hmm," Tarna hmmed.

"Let's get into armor and otherwise prepared," Melaran sent with innate caution and rose to go and do so, settling on the power sword he'd retrieved from Iyanden to supplement his armament. "May be a useful tool if we decide on the forest route."


	2. What the Cat Dragged In

Maybe not the ideal situation for a vacation, but Melaran certainly couldn't complain about the company or the lack of anything shooting or otherwise trying to kill them. Quite restful and serene after Shazmar left, really, and if worse came to worst... well, things would have to get pretty hairy before he'd think about calling in a favor from him or Bob. Just wouldn't sit well on the independence scale.

On the plus side, some headway had been made in terms of gathering the shattered fragments of serenity needed for meditation even if it wasn't something that could brush aside the temptation to simply watch his companion from slitted eyes now and again. Oh, how Bob would laugh and snicker! Tarna regained her strength and energy quickly enough, though, and the prospect of emerging to explore was of growing appeal.

"Ready to head out and see what's waiting to eat us out there?" he asked her with a quirked grin, his armor already donned save for the helmet and shuriken rifle rested casually at his shoulder.

"Mm, certainly," Tarna said, stretching a bit and preparing to head out. "It's always nice to explore someplace new and interesting that does not immediately involve people attempting to kill you."

"We've been on the ground a while and no signs, so shouldn't be anything _immediately_ waiting to pounce." Melaran chuckled. "Stealth field might have just a _little_ to do with that, though, so watch my back and I'll watch yours."

He grinned and headed out the Gate to the front of the ship to check the sensors. Tarna grinned back and followed him out.

"I wonder what we'll find here..." Tarna said. "Perhaps giant floating eyeballs that shoot deadly lasers."

"Giant eyeballs shooting lasers?" Melaran looked away from the scan with a raised brow. "Where'd you see something like that?"

"Uh... I don't know the name of the planet, but I definitely saw it briefly once. Somewhere."

Laughing lightly, Melaran returned to the sensor logs and scanned back and forth through them a bit. "Well, doesn't look like anything big and nasty has been sniffing around." He shrugged. "Definitely signs of life out there in the forest nearby and more distant on the plains. Tech traces in both directions, though there's something weird about the energy signature out of the forest."

"'Weird' is a very specific and enlightening adjective," Tarna said wryly.

Melaran grinned and motioned her closer. "Here, take a look." He turned back and pointed to the pulsing signature, its rhythm not seeming to follow any sort of regular pattern. "That's not normal for anything I've seen," he said, pointing to the more distant one. "See? Nice and even, that's what you want to see when you're talking a power source. No idea."

"Hmm. Interesting," Tarna said, peering at it curiously. "Guess we'll just have to find out now won't we?"

"Oh sure, poke at the anomaly, that always ends well." Melaran snickered, then grinned and shrugged. "I'm with you, though, I'm curious. If we're gonna be lost together anyway, may as well keep it interesting. C'mon," he said, opening the cockpit and stepping lightly out. "Let's see what we can see."

Tarna hopped out and took a glance around the immediate vicinity a bit. "Not such a bad place, really."

A light breeze was blowing across the plains and through the forest, the rustling of long grasses and leaves singing a complex harmony that may seem somewhat out of place in their proximity but still soothing.

"How odd," Melaran murmurs, looking around at the contrast of sunlit plain and shade-dappled forest, then shook his head and put his helmet on. "Clearly artificial, strange placement though."

Tarna struck off in the general direction of the more interesting anomaly, relaxedly alert just in the off chance somebody did decide to start shooting in their general direction as tended to happen far too often for comfort.

Melaran trotted quietly to catch up to her, turning his attention away from the oddities of the contrast as they passed into the cool shadows of the forest. Even at the edge there was a mingling of ancient and young growth, the trees towering into the sky above them almost from the start. The ground was a spongy loam, lending well to the growth of spike-leaved vines that clung to the trunks of the forest giants.

The light dimmed further as they proceeded, the branches of the trees prolific and intertwined to create a dense canopy where strange bird-like creatures flutter here and there with flashes of brilliant and often bizarre color.

"I think I could get to like this place," Melaran tepped gently, enjoying the quiet peacefulness.

"Oh, yes, it's quite nice," Tarna replied. "In around, oh, ten seconds, we'll be attacked by something I'll bet you."

"You're so cynical," Melaran replied with quiet mirth, though he didn't seem particularly surprised either as he stopped suddenly and put an arm out before her. "Do you hear that?" The birds have gone silent and still, their gay fluttering gone from the vicinity.

"Naturally," Tarna tepped dryly, glancing around the area quickly to see what it might be.

Quiet as the whisper of the wind, it moved through the trees, watching the strangers below with unknown intent and unseen by them. The forest dwellers had fled, that alerted the blue one and brought it to warn the other, but what were they and what did they want? Could it be...?

"Are you from Dog?" came an unfamiliar silken rumble to both of their minds, giving no hint of location as yet.

Tarna blinked in confusion, peering about the vicinity. "What...?"

A shadow moved across nearby branches, a lithe figure seeming to flow across them and then halting at a tree's fork to look at the two with wide, dark eyes. There was some superficial resemblance to the panthers of Earth in the form, but it's clearly built more along the lines of being able to switch readily between quad and bipedal modes. Its... _her_ ears, Tarna realized, were torn between laying flat back and perking forward in curiosity.

"Are you from Dog?" she repeated, looking over the armored forms with quiet intensity. One clawed hand was curled around a tube of unfamiliar design, and closer examination reveals that at least basic clothing was worn as well as a pouch here and there for carrying things.

"Well, I wouldn't think so," Tarna replied. "I have not grown acquainted with overly many canines in my lifetime I'm afraid to say."

The creature continued its downward climb hesitantly, eyes never leaving them as she reached the ground and stands on two legs to look from one to the other. "What?" she asked in obvious confusion, ears flickering more toward the upright as curiosity began to win out over wariness. They obviously weren't from the Mesar, so who, what, where, why... a million questions seemed to bubble at the edge of thought that they felt.

Tarna raised her hands in what she hoped was a non-aggressive gesture. "We are peaceful explorers from very-far-away."

The motion drew the creature's attention, but more as instinct than distrust, which both of them could feel in the open flow of emotion and tighter thread of thought that flowed from her. She walked a little closer, head tilting to one side to get another angle as she circled slightly to study them.

"Where? How did you get past the barrier?" she asked, stilling a tumble of other questions with obvious effort.

"What barrier?" Tarna wondered.

The feline looked at them blankly, the ignorance seeming beyond comprehension. "The one beyond the forest, the one beyond the plains... there was one near here too until the world shook and the temple fell."

"We... well, we flew in, with a flying device," Tarna tried to explain.

The creature's eyes widened farther at this and they can feel a surge of sharp excitement and something less definable in her emotions, echoed clearly in her stance.

"Father must see you!" the feline replied urgently and bounded a little deeper into the forest, looking back and motioning them to follow, "Please..."

Tarna gave a bit of a shrug and strolled off after her. "Okay."

Melaran looked after the creature... girl really, thoughtfully, and began to follow as well. "Did you catch that emotion, Tarna?" he asked quietly, the link brushing her mind alone. "It felt like... hope." He ducked around a massive tree trunk, frowning in puzzlement beneath his helm.

Their guide waited no longer than to make sure they were following before leading onward again, stopping at regular intervals to check that they were still there, the bubbling of emotion still clearly felt by both of them. Something else gradually began to make itself felt to them as they moved further in, though, a sense of something 'wrong' in the very air or world about them.

Tarna continued on following after her, tepping back to Melaran, "Most intriguing. Perhaps these rather furry creatures are more inclined to want our help than to shoot at us?"

"We can certainly hope so," Melaran replied, intrigued by the idea despite the growing sense of some sort of taint around them that he couldn't quite put a finger on. It was similar to something he'd felt before, though bearing a different 'flavor' and his mind worked at the puzzle as they passed deeper into the forest.

A brightening grew in the forest ahead of them after a while longer, and their guide made her way surely toward it. The two visitors could feel added emotional signals from several places near them as they passed, most mingling a welcome most likely directed toward their guide and a cautious curiosity aimed at them. No others made their appearance immediately known as they go, however, and they saw no others until nearing the broad clearing.

The clearing was most likely a natural formation, or at least partly so, as a few low-lying mounds were scattered here and there that would seem to indicate dwellings and only the sharply upthrust hill at the very center seeming out of place. One thing of note in that regard, were a few slabs of material very similar to what the outside of the Sphere had been constructed of.

Tarna took a good look around the area curiously, tepping to Melaran, "Hmm, interesting."

"Obviously been here a while," Melaran replied thoughtfully, the village seeming to be designed with the space in mind and subtle hints of age poking up here and there. "Maybe something to do with the reason for this all in the first place," he added thoughtfully, looking up at the ruins tumbling across the hillside.

"Come!" their guide bounded forward with energy, darting around one mound and a neatly tended garden beside it and toward another nearer the center. She stopped at what they'd estimate to be the central most mound, considerably larger than most and they get their first glimpse of a male of the species standing guard at the sloping cut that leads into it. 

The felinoid was nearly as tall as the two Eldar and heavily muscled, dwarfing the female and making her seem like the not-quite-adult that she was.

"Tarl!" she greeted him brightly, motioning to her guests. "Let us in, I brought someone Father's going to want to see!"

The older male looked down at her and they could sense fond amusement that turns to speculative wariness as he looked at them.

Tarna gave a bow of her head in a friendly manner to the male kitty. 'Greetings.'

He merely looked at them blankly, appraisingly for a moment, and they could sense a guardian's resignation at the bubbling enthusiasm from the girl.

"Mira..." He looked at her, though still broadcasting openly. "Your father..." he went suddenly silent as her eyes narrowed and she took on another demeanor entirely, well beyond her seeming years, and Melaran blinked at the familiar stance of a commander toward a soldier.

"Father will want to meet them, Tarl," she replied sternly.

The larger cat merely bowed his head to her and stepped aside. He may not like the idea, as his emotions clearly showed, nor trust the strange creatures that resembled others he had seen, but he would not disobey.

"Come!" Mira tepped.

She turned back to them with renewed enthusiasm, and darted down the incline and opened a door to a dim interior, then passes within.

Tarna followed after and went inside obligingly, nodding politely to the male and tepping to Melaran, "Fascinating."

They might have expected something akin to a cave or den, but the interior would be more likely found in remote and luxurious hunting lodges. The walls were paneled in rich, lustrous wood, intricately woven tapestries augmenting the serene setting. Mira ducked past the first room without pause, having no real interest in the mundane oddities of her life, and through a broad set of doors at the rear.

That, in turn, led into an audience chamber, clearly large enough to classify as a meeting hall. Cleanly cut statues stood at the far end, depicting stylized versions of the metallic beings that they had seen on the dark world above. Between them, on a pile of comfortable cushions, a male even larger than the one outside lay sprawled in apparent comfort. He begins to rise as Mira entered, then hissed audibly and sank back into the cushions as she darted to him.

"Father, don't!" she scolded him, clearly worried, and gently brushes her muzzle to his in greeting. She looked back to her guests, brightening. "I've brought someone you need to meet."

"Nice place you've got here," Tarna observed. "We come in peace, and all that jazz. My name's Tarna, and this is Melaran. We've traveled a long way to come here."

Melaran offered a polite bow to her introduction, though he really had _no_ idea what the social courtesies were like here but knowing he wasn't about to go up and rub muzzles! He restrained the momentary amusement, and let Tarna run with it as the more sociable of the two overall.

The larger male looked aside at them and they felt... nothing from him, either naturally or deliberately shielding himself beyond what the others they've encountered did. He flicked an ear-tip toward Tarna and replied, "So it would seem." He turned away for a moment, shifting his attention to his wayward daughter and a silent berating obviously happening as she began to droop visibly and an occasional "But..." was heard.

"Yes Father," she finished, clearly unhappily as the male turned back to them.

"What do you seek here?" he asked brusquely.

"We are peaceful explorers," Tarna repeated. "We come to see what there is to see and do what there is to do and meet interesting people and primarily attempt to avoid being shot at overly much since that tends to not be a pleasant use of time as we did that overly much of late and we're on vacation now. For the moment. I think."

"Father, please..." Mira leaps in before he can reply, gesturing at them, "Look at them! They're not that different from the servitors, and they said they _flew_ here! Maybe they can help..." she trailed off at a quelling look from him, which shifted slowly to his guests.

"I am sorry you have come all this way for no reason then, strangers. This land is not a safe one for any to dwell." He didn't seem hostile, per se, merely distrusting as anyone might be in the situation.

"Oh, nothing ever is of course," Tarna replied offhandedly. "Can't ever go anywhere without running into one sort of trouble or another. It's the nature of things I imagine. Or just the fact that the dice dislike me perhaps."

Mira remained silent, flickering resentment mingled with bitter sorrow and deeper hints of emotion echoing from her.

The male dipped his head faintly in their direction. "Such is always the way of things. I am Shar, leader of the Katharn, and while I cannot admit to my daughter's foolish behavior bringing strangers here, I will also not break all courtesy and send you away if you wish to remain for a time."

"Hey, we just want to be friends. We're quite friendly. Aren't we, Melaran?" She glanced at him briefly. "Really friendly, and we love to help out and stuff."

"Despite my daughter's outburst," he replied, glancing aside at her with a clear paternal warning before continuing. "There is nothing any save Dog may do for us, and his servitors have not been seen in many years now, not since the fall of the temple."

"We really wouldn't mind helping," Melaran added in affirmation of what she'd said, the gears at the back of his mind suddenly clicking together as to the source of what seemed 'wrong' around them. "You said this temple was destroyed, right? And let me guess, people started getting sick, mutating, or just dying mysteriously afterwards?"

He looked at Tarna, flickering a thought directly to her, "This thing taps into the Ethereal or the Warp of this universe for power, that's what I wasn't getting. If something hit this thing hard enough to make a mountain out of a molehill, you can damn well _bet_ that something would be leaking out, probably contaminated beyond belief!"

"Oh, yeah, I imagine that could cause some problems, you betcha," Tarna tepped to Melaran.

Shar looked between the two of them, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, and his attention snared away from his daughter who took advantage of it to burble forth once again, "See Father? I told you they might be able to help us! If they know what's been happening to our people, they might know what went wrong and how to fix it or call the servitors to!" She trailed off, looking at him pleadingly. "Please... before it kills you like it did Mama..."

That memory seemed to strike a blow, and his resistance softened as did his mental tone, "I do not know, Mira..." He straightened, some measure of his natural force of personality and strength returning as he looked to the strangers. "Will you do this? I can only ask, as the problem is one that has plagued us for long and long now, and though I would trust my daughter's judgment I must recognize that it is inherently biased in this."

"Hey, I'm sure we can manage. Probably. Maybe," Tarna replied. "But hey, we'll certainly give it a shot."

Shar sighed deeply and nodded at the reply, looking aside to Mira and his broadcast remained open this time, "Your mother trained and taught you all that you need know in this, tell them what you think is needed."

He added no more, merely watching her for a moment as she nodded with energetic affirmation and thinking thoughts common to parents throughout the ages. 

"Then go," he continued quietly, "I grow tired."

Mira's emotions spiked with concern as he slumped into the cushions, a clawed hand reaching to lightly brush his forehead. Her ears flattened to her skull as she turned away suddenly and uncurled from her perch, crossing back to her guests with a subdued version of her earlier excitement.

"Come," she sent quietly, and headed for the doors.


	3. Temple Repair

Tarna headed out after her quietly with a bit of a glance back toward the male again. "So where is this temple?" she asked unnecessarily after stepping outside.

"This way," Mira replied, ignoring the questioning look of Tarl outside and heading off toward the jagged hillside. "I remember it before, when we could talk to Dog's avatar inside and ask for little things that the land itself needed. A while ago, though," she stopped near its base, looking up. "There was a great shaking in the darktime and the temple was shattered."

"Well, that'd definitely not be a good thing I'd say, no," Tarna commented. She shot over to Melaran, "Who the heck is this 'Dog' they keep mentioning?"

"Why don't you stay down here while we take a look around," Melaran sent to Mira, adding as she seemed about to protest. "I don't think your father'd be real happy with us if you got hurt poking around up here, okay?"

She replied with a disappointed nod, but curled up on the ground to wait as he motioned Tarna to follow him.

"I have _no_ idea," he tepped in direct reply to Tarna's question, walking up the steep slope easily. "The whole business about the avatar really has me wondering though. We'll have to get some more information from her later, definitely, but I was only sort of joking about her father back there... can you feel it? Something is definitely seeping through up here."

A slab of blue-sheened metal lay to one side of the switchback path he follows, and he stopped to take a look at the thing, drawing her attention to the sharply delineated markings that go along its outer edge. "A language?" he mused, the symbols not bringing anything to mind in his memory, but definitely suggesting a coherent pattern.

"Hmm, or something of that nature most likely."

Tarna examined the thing, bringing to mind all her various knowledge of languages and attempting to find some sort of match for the markings. Tarna would almost swear that she'd seen something like this when dealing with one Terran-based culture or another, vaguely reminiscent of Mayan or perhaps Nahuatl, but only the style as the meaning remained elusive, perhaps diluted or debased from an original template.

"Hmm, interesting," Tarna commented. "Well, _I_ certainly can't read it, not that that's especially surprising. Although considering how many people in the multiverse seem to speak English maybe that _should_ be surprising..."

"One could hope," Melaran replied, chuckling, "It doesn't appear to be of any similar symbolic language that I know of, and considering the recent surprise revelation in Torn Elkandu I'd thought maybe, just maybe... Oh well." He shrugged and gestured upward. "Let's go take a look inside the remains of this temple, maybe they'll tell us more."

"No, it looks more like ancient Terran pictogram writing," Tarna commented. "Like of the natives of Central America and South America, perhaps. But different. Not that I'm exactly much of an archaeologist or anything, but I did take note of the markings on one of their temples before they sacrificed me to a rain god one time..."

"Sacrificed you to a rain god?" Melaran responded, looking over at her in shock, then back to the hill as they climbed the last few meters. The 'temple' was remarkably intact, all things considered, a few metallic panels skewed here and there but leaving the rest largely untouched and stable. The entry was open, never having had a door, and he walked cautiously toward the darkness within.

"Long story," Tarna replied. She gave a good look over the vicinity and carefully headed into the place. "I'll tell you later. Assuming we survive this. Wow, I'm just the pessimist today aren't I?"

"One you'll have to tell me sometime," Melaran replied, proceeding as carefully as she within, then added with a chuckle, "And besides, it's only pessimism if it's not the truth. Don't worry though, I'll be sure I'm the first one eaten which should leave plenty of time for you to run."

Gallows humor, but seeming appropriate as they entered and found that it was basically one big, dark room. Their helmets readily adjusted to the lighting, though, and reveal smoothly machined walls with pillars roughly ever ten feet along their length. The center of the chamber was a shambles of twisted metal and sharp shards of crystal, obviously a victim of whatever happened. Closer examination revealed bits and pieces of odd circuitry scattered throughout, the mess in a clear circle around a deep pit.

"Hmm," Tarna mused as she gave the immediate vicinity a close examination. "Well, it definitely looks like something is broken here. But then we knew that already."

She smirked faintly as she stated the obvious. Tarna went and looks over to the pit, peering in.

"No joke," Melaran agreed, shaking his head as he walked in and took a look around, something near the back amongst the debris catching his attention. The pit was deep, very, very deep, and somewhere in its depths an unhealthy light flickered and glowed in an irregular pattern which illuminated an undulating, roiling mist of some sort.

"That's probably not a good sign," Tarna commented as she peered inside, glancing up over to what he was looking at. "What is it?"

Sifting through the rubble, Melaran drags out what appears to be a hardsuit of some kind. It was clearly intended to be highly protective as armor plates are joined together by a high-density weave to allow for maximum mobility versus protection, though it doesn't have a helmet of any sort attached.

"Odd," he tepped, studying it a moment more and then looking in her direction. "And what isn't a good sign?"

She pointed vaguely down into the pit. "There's something down there, it doesn't look entirely natural. Kind of creepy."

Melaran brought the human-proportioned suit along and lay it at the edge of the pit, then took a look for himself. "You're right," he replied, distasteful at the feel of unease that seemed to rise from the hole. "Though..." he trailed off thoughtfully, leaning over the edge and down a bit for a better look.

"What do you suppose it is? Hmm..." Tarna peered some more thoughtfully.

Pointing down, he indicated the edges down near where the mist boiled. "Looks like there's some kind of ruptured power line down there. I'd swear it was crystalline from the look of it." Drawing back, he looked at the debris around them and snared one of the crystal fragments, holding it up as example. "Probably where this came from."

"So I suppose whatever the problem is will be found down there, then... hmm."

"Wouldn't happen to have some rope in your bag of many wonders, would you?" Melaran asked with quiet amusement. "This armor can fly, but it's not exactly designed for such narrow workspaces. I bet that if I can get down there, though, the power line can at least be sealed and kept from agitating that..." He looked down again at the mist, then groaned. "Oh great, it's raw Ethereal or Warp. Joy."

"Well, Dreamfeather allows levitation..." Tarna said, "But generally you'd want both hands free to be doing something like that. Hmm, yeah, I've probably got a rope or ten around here somewhere..." She poked around in her bag of holding.

"No wonder they're getting sick," Melaran mused, continuing the examination as he waited for her to find the rope, a mental sidenote added to himself to look at creating a general purpose kit like he used to carry. "If the crystal power lines are anything like the Eldar," he continued, "They'd cause all sorts of interesting things to happen with raw Warp energies... the real question being where the hell _that's_ coming from.'

Tarna proceeded to pull out several ropes in various colors, types, lengths, and styles. "Take your pick."

"What?" he asked, looking aside to her and laughing gently at the array of rope being laid out. "You are an incurable collector." A medium weight rope would be strong enough and then some for the task at hand, and he picked one out, uncoiling it. "Let's find some way to secure this and I'll go down, at least I have some chance if something goes wrong." The wings at his shoulders shimmered briefly in support of the argument.

Tarna looked for something sturdy enough to secure the rope to and tied it on fast. "That should do the trick, then, I think. Probably."

"A veritable font of reassurance," Melaran replied dryly, but didn't hesitate to take the rope in hand and step to the edge, looking down once more. "I'll tie off when I get down and can see what's wrong, hopefully above the level of the raw energies flowing down there."

He really didn't want to think what that could do, especially not as he stepped over the edge and began to descend.

Tarna stepped over to the edge to watch him and kept a hand on the rope as he went down. "Be careful."

"Always," Melaran replied, intent on his climbing, though the shattered walls provided a great many footholds to make the task easier and brought him to the source of the sparking light in short order. "Definitely like the power feeds of the Eldar," he tepped absently, examining both of the shorn ends as he tied off. He was quite glad that the limits of the roiling energy pool seemed to be about a foot beneath him. "I think I can seal them off without a problem," he added, "though that won't do anything about a general repair since I have no idea what was supposed to be down here in the first place." Strange, very strange, but he set to the job without reluctance.

"I wonder if they left an instruction manual or something around here... hmm..." Tarna pondered absently as she kept an eye on the rope and Melaran just in case.

"Dunno," Melaran replied, muttering to himself as the power needed to seal the conduit slipped through his grasp for long moments, the crystal seeming to mock him as it flashed and glowed. "Take a look around, they might have, though I doubt this level of repair would be intended to be taken care of by the average alien off the Warp."

"You never know," Tarna commented, taking a glance around the place to see if she might find anything that might be of use in figuring out how the thing was supposed to work.

Melaran continued to work below as she went to look, a blistering oath searing the air as a power fluctuation jolted through his armored gauntlets. She found the temple to be fairly austere, beyond the tumbled statues similar to the ones they'd seen down in the feline village. Rubble was strewn here and there, and further examples of the hardsuits could be glimpsed in pieces now and again.

She gave another look over one of them as well absently in hopes that it might have some information attached, but frowned a bit and headed back over to the hole again. "Not much luck here. Do you suppose any of the ones who built this might still be around? Or whoever was supposed to be maintaining the place..."

"There's obviously something still around," Melaran replied, a hint of satisfaction seeping through as he grasped firmly at what he'd sought and used the power to seal the crystalline pathway. "Too much activity on that worldlet nearer the sun, whether it's all machine-driven or not, no clue." He examined the work, then began to climb back up again. "Either way, gonna need to find out, that's a temporary fix at best and doesn't deal with whatever else is leaking down there."

Tarna helped him out as much as she could. "Gotta be something I suppose. It's just a matter of finding it."

"Well," Melaran replied, grateful of the hand out, and looked around. "Judging by the looks of this place, there's probably a lot more to be found when they're in good condition." He motioned to one of the scraps of odd circuitry among the debris. "May be a computer operated repair point of some kind, or a waystation for the people who made it. Humans, most likely."

He prodded the nearby hardsuit with a boot tip at the last. Tarna went to give it a twice-over just to make sure she hadn't missed anything that might be remotely useful in figuring this out.

Closer examination revealed recessed crystals in the walls about twenty feet from the far end of the temple from the entrance. The debris containing the hardsuits was all beyond that point, and several inlaid panels set into the far wall that could be lockers or cabinets of some sort. Examination of one revealed a plethora of equipment, though it all appeared to be emergency or survival gear rather than for repairs.

"Somehow I don't think this is as useful as I had hoped for," Tarna commented with a bit of a sigh. "Okay, what now?"

Having had the details pointed out, Melaran examined the crystals instead, leaving the lockers to her to look through. "Looks like a version of a holo-transmitter," he tepped thoughtfully, then crossed to take a peek at the locker and its contents. "Maybe to keep these out of sight and mind, but why? Definitely weird. It's like they put this stuff here in case someone got stranded, but why not just put a communicator..." He trailed off, looking back to the center of the temple. "Unless that's what got destroyed."

"Entirely possible," Tarna commented. "We can't be sure what all would normally be here under fully operational conditions. Though if we could find another fully functional one of these places and compare... hmm."

"Yeah, hmm indeed," Melaran replied, "Maybe our hosts will know where another one might be found, could be a way to access some sort of repair system that way too. You almost get the feeling that things are running on automatic around here, bound to be some glitches in the system when no one's watching."

"Yeah... I think that'll be our best bet for the moment barring somebody dropping out of the sky and telling us what's wrong with the thing and how to fix it." She smirked a bit and headed for the door again.

"Careful what you wish for," Melaran replied, chuckling. "Never know who might be listening."

He followed after, curiosity driving him forward and over the innate tendency to caution. Their descent down from the temple grounds was without incident, and Mira was still curled up lazily in the warm sunshine at the bottom of the hill.

"Well," Tarna addressed her. "We've put a band-aid on the problem for the moment, but I think we'll need to see how it's supposed to work before we can fully repair it. Do you know where we might find another of these temples, perhaps?"

Mira stretched languidly and uncurled from her impromptu nap, blinking up at them as they returned.

"Mm?" she inquired, the shroud of sleep quickly shredding beneath the claws of curiosity that awaken at Tarna's words. She rose, gathering the blanket she'd curled up on and folding it to put back in her pouch, and replied, "The Mesar definitely have a temple, but they are not the most friendly beings."

"What are they like?" Tarna wondered. "Similar level of technology?"

"They're..." Mira's ears lay back as she tries to come up with the words, though echoes of anger and fear tinge her emotions. "Savage. Brutal. We tried to talk to them, but they only wanted to kill us. Now and then they send a raiding party into our forests, and while they're stronger and tougher than we are, they haven't had much fortune in leaving again."

"What do they look like? What sort of weapons do they use?" Tarna presses. She didn't think they'd have overmuch difficulty dealing with beings stuck in the stone age, but would like some information to go on here.

"Taller than Father," Mira replied, then flicks an ear dismissively. "I'll show you..."

An image began to form of a very large creature, its overall build most like a bipedal crocodile but having strange tufts that look like fur scattered across its body at joints and neck. Its maw had countless razor-sharp teeth to add support to equally deadly claws, a shifting image showing one of the creatures tearing through stone.

"Very dangerous," she continued, bringing the tube they'd seen her carrying earlier for display. "But they fall readily enough if you can keep out of range of their claws. They can destroy one of these in their jaws, too, I've seen one do it before."

Tarna gave a nod, listening. "Well, they certainly don't sound very friendly to me. But I'm sure we can handle them if they give us any problems," she added brightly. "Probably. Maybe."

"I'm sure of it!" Mira replied, the burbling enthusiasm she'd displayed before returning in force. "Father would never allow me to show you there, but I can at least show you which way to go if you want. Anything that I can help with I will, just to see that things go back to how they were before."

"Just point the way, I'm sure we'll be able to find it," Tarna replied, grinning a bit.

"Follow me," Mira replied, padding ahead and then looking back to make sure they follow before continuing on.

The path led back out of the village and in the direction they'd come in, the feline leaping into low-slung trees now and again to take a better look around and scent the air for any signs of trouble as they move further away. The forest wasn't particularly dangerous, but that didn't mean things couldn't wander in from the savannah.

As they neared the thinning of the forest to that plain, Mira scrambled into another tree, curling around the trunk to a higher branch and gazing intently off into the near distance where a faint rustling can be heard. Keen anticipation could be felt in her emotions as she drew out the strange tube and pointed it in that direction. 

A faint thrum sounded an instant before a sharp crack was heard, needle-sharp darts ripping from the tube and screaming down into a denser patch of foliage and drawing a scream of animal rage, a scent of coppery blood, and then a meaty thud as something dropped to the ground.

Tarna peered out across the plain as if attempting to see any sort of structure similar to that of the temple that they had visited somewhere in the distance. The savannah, as far as the eye could see, was chest high, waving grasses, with a faint hint of rocks rising from the flowing sea in the distance.

Mira swarmed back down from the trees and bounded into the cover of the foliage where she'd shot, momentarily distracted from the purpose they'd come out here for by the heady scent of freshly killed prey. Melaran, silently thoughtful after the recent display walks in that direction. 

Tarna headed out not far behind him, alert and thoughtful. Reasonably, she thought, since they were on the inside of the sphere, the curvature of the "world" would allow seeing things in the distance given good enough eyesight that would not be normally visible on normal planets due to the horizon. Logically, at any rate. That did not, however, account for poor visibility or obstructions.

Mira looked up as the other two near, the carcass she was standing next to at least twice her size and sitting in a deepening pool of blood seeping from a nearly severed neck. Melaran circled around to touch a nearby blood-splattered rock, fingertips barely feeling the protruding ends of the needles that had done the killing.

"Certainly more than things might appear," he tepped to Tarna alone.

"Sorry," Mira addressed them both directly, mildly embarrassed but still glad of the opportunity that had happened upon her. "We usually have to risk heading into the savannah to get one of these. It must have wandered in for water. Let me show you the way and I'll come back for this later."

Mira headed toward the sunlit verge, eyes narrowing to slits in the brighter light. Melaran followed, after a thoughtful look at the armored hide of the creature.

"Heh, it's okay, no need to apologize," Tarna replied, staring off. "So where is this temple you mentioned exactly?"

"I remember a story Father used to tell," Mira replied, gesturing to the rocks in the distance. "When the barrier first fell, some of us went and explored the savannah in that direction. They told of encountering a rough city populated by the Mesar, and the familiar structure at its heart... unfortunately they saw little more than that as the Mesar found and killed those who couldn't flee in time."

"What sort of barrier was this? A forcefield of some sort?" Tarna asked.

Mira looked at Tarna uncomprehendingly at the terminology, then flicked her ears in a shrug. "It could not be seen, leaving the land beyond clearly in view, but it was as solid as a wall. Touching it was enough to make your fur stand on end, but it caused no harm to anyone who did as far as I've ever heard."

"Sounds like a force barrier to me," Tarna commented. "When did it come down? Anytime around when the temple was damaged, by any chance?"

"The very same night," Mira replied with emphasis. "The Avatar was responsible for keeping our land safe and free from harm, maintaining a balance when something went wrong. Occasionally, it would summon angels to do something for it, but they were rare visitors indeed and disappeared into the air as suddenly as they appeared."

"So," Tarna observed. "The temple was damaged, causing the barrier to come down and various other issues to occur. Interesting. So I imagine it was somehow maintaining it from there. There's other barriers around you say? What's the status on those?"

"This was the only one to vanish," Mira replied. "I suppose there are other Avatars watching over the other ones from different places, but I have no idea where they might be."

Tarna gave a nod. "On the other side of those barriers I imagine, then."

"If the lands beyond are anything like ours," Mira responded. "Then the temples would be at the very center, though I'm not sure I'd want to find out if the Mesar are any indication of what else may be waiting out there."

"I imagine they can't all be hostile," Tarna commented. "So you say your lands are square, then, with the temple at the center? Interesting..."

"Not square," Mira contradicted. "I don't know about other areas, but this one is much longer one direction than the other, and the edges are curved. The far side is marked by a river, in fact, with the boundary running right down the middle of it."

Tarna gave a nod thoughtfully.

Mira looked from one to the other of them, a flicker of anxiety and worry shadowing the emotions she projected at the silent reply. "That is all I know," she sent. "What else are you looking for? You have helped us already, and I would hate to think you believed I was hiding something from you..." Her body language echoed the uncertainty, tail twitching back and forth as she tried to think of anything she had or hadn't said.

"Just curious," Tarna replied. "No, I don't think that at all. Don't worry," she sent with a touch of reassurance.

Calmed, a more reserved measure of enthusiasm returns, and Mira went on, "The Mesar are the only ones we've encountered, since the rest of the barrier is still intact. Other temples could well be found in other places, or not. We just do not know, since the bloodletters bar our path to looking further, even if we were inclined to leave our forest." She knew they had always lived thus, even before coming here as her father told it.

Tarna nodded. "We'll see what we can find. A good look at this temple of theirs should be helpful in repairing yours as well, with any luck."

"Probably," Mira replied.

The feline approached a tree and circled around it, then stopped and peeled a wide swath of bark from its side. She examined the wood beneath, which appeared to have fine segments marking it, then peeled one section out and lay it on the ground. She turned back and pressed the bark firmly into place before returning to the long, rounded piece of wood.

"Many strange things in our new home, Father has said, but I've never known any different one. The temples surely follow some pattern determined by the ones who brought us here long ago."

Tarna gave a nod. "Alright... We'll find out what we can and return soon. Assuming we don't get eaten," she added far too cheerfully.

"Listen for rustlings in the long grass," Mira replied gravely. "The Mesar hunt in groups, though not always staying together. They often set traps and ambushes for the unwary."

She poked a claw at the bit of wood and, satisfied, picked it up, holding a strong and flexible pole that she'd use to bring the dead creature back to her village. 

"Watch for things that seem out of place," she added. "That often means that there is something that you can use there, for food, water, or building things. The Mesar would know which things are useful in their lands, but their secrets are not easily gained."

Tarna listened and thanked her for her advice, and headed off cautiously onto the plains.

Mira watched them go reluctantly, but she did indeed disappear back into the forest like a shadow. She was young enough to yearn to see other things and places, but not kit enough to ignore what duties and requirements were demanded of her by her father and, ultimately, her people. So the strangers, exciting and enticing as they might be, would be left to their own path with her heartfelt wishes.


	4. Killer Tumbleweeds

Melaran followed Tarna out from beneath the shadows of the forest in thoughtful silence, scaling the helmet magnification to maximum to get the best view possible of the distant rock outcroppings.

"Hell with watching the long grass," he tepped to Tarna. "That's what the ship's for. These Mesar didn't exactly sound like exemplary hosts to me."

"I concur," Tarna replied. "From her description, I would as soon attempt to have tea and cookies with Orks while discussing the latest fashion trends."

Melaran chuckled, turning to head back to the cloaked ship with the help of the transponder. "The Orks aren't so bad," he countered, "as long as you stay far upwind of them and having tea and cookies is a euphemism for using guns and artillery."

She giggled and headed long with him, and replied, "Alright then. How much tea and cookies should we bring along to meet the Mesar?"

"Depends on what we find when we get there," Melaran replied. "If they have the red carpet out for guests, then I suppose we can drop in to say hi, but somehow I doubt that's going to be the case. Really going to be a pain if this temple's in the center of their camp, that's for sure."

They hadn't emerged far from where they'd entered the forest, and Melaran climbed up to open the cockpit and climb in.

"Yeah, this should be fun," she smirked. "At least they didn't sound like they had especially high technology, so hopefully they won't be shooting at us at least."

"Tyranid don't either," Melaran responded with a snort, settling into a control chair and bringing the systems up from standby. "But they still have a lot of nasty surprises to them. After seeing that little needle spitter she used, I'm gonna be a just a liiiittle bit careful about things, reminded me a little too much of how the shuriken catapults work. That faint hum before firing was a mass-accelerator I'd bet. Not good."

"Yeah," she commented. "I wonder where they got things like that..."

"Not a clue," Melaran replied, shaking his head as the craft rose smoothly and turned in the direction that they're intending. "Willing to bet that temple had something to do with it, though, that or these people who brought them here... from wherever, whenever... Something very strange going on here, can't wait to see what it is."

"Indeed. Let's go take a peek, then, at what it's _supposed_ to look like, eh?" she stretched a bit.

"Indeed," Melaran agreed, a teasing grin coming across the connection, and the ship sped off toward their destination. The journey at a normal walking pace would have been several days, but due to the wonders of modern science the time was considerably reduced. "Oh, on the plus side, the scanners can pick up those barriers Mira was talking about, they're all over the place."

"They separate the place into a bunch of little compartments?" Tarna inquired.

"That's what the immediate scanner area looks like, yep," Melaran responded with a nod. "It's possible they're more widespread, too, wasn't exactly looking for anything like that in the first casual scan. Detailed work on the whole inner surface would take quite a while, this place is _huge_."

He adjusted the node controls lightly, arcing the course to pass over the settlement and setting the scanners to work.

"Worth investigating sooner or later at any rate though. Peculiar. I would surmise that the purpose of them would have been to separate different species from one another, perhaps to prevent them from killing each other or something... hmm."

"Or something," Melaran replied, frowning at the sensor data. "Figures, the temple's right in the middle of the... well, city for lack of a better word. It's definitely more than a bunch of tents."

He shunted a copy of the data over to her, revealing that the rock structures she'd seen before were instead irregularly carved, low-lying buildings. The city was laid out in a circular pattern with no discernible structure otherwise as paths meandered through in seeming meaningless fashion. Only the center was clear, an intact version of the temple they'd seen elsewhere sitting in a clearing perhaps a hundred yards across. The natives could be seen lumbering hither and yon, a peculiarity to the scans as some of them gave off signs of cybernetic enhancement.

"Well, well," Tarna commented. "I'm sure we're not gonna be sneaking in _there_ unnoticed. Do we have any other alternatives? Pick up any other intact temples in the general area on the scans?"

"One sec, let me check," Melaran replied absently, agreeing with her on their likelihood of approaching that one undetected. "Hmm, looks like several in the outlying areas, and no signs of downed barriers that would suggest obvious damage. There also..." he paused, studying the scan returns, "don't appear to be any other signs of civilization in those areas. Could be a good thing, or could be a bad thing. Not sure."

"Interesting. Shall we take a look, then? Would definitely be a bit healthier, but if we don't find what we're looking for there we will have to come back here..."

"Doesn't hurt to check, that's for sure,' Melaran nodded. "That down there would be a mess to get into. May as well check out other options since they're here. Hmm... try the nearest one first." The craft turns and darts away, leaving the unfriendly city behind and passing quickly over the intervening distance. "That's odd, the zone back there is _much_ larger than any others nearby, population size maybe?"

The area they entered was closer to a blasted wasteland than anything else, seeming barren of any sort of obvious life beyond basic plants. That image was belied by scanner though, as a tumbling 'plant' swerved suddenly to pounce on and devour another one.

Tarna boggled a bit. "What the hell?"

"Don't trust the plant life, obviously," Melaran responded, focusing on the creatures with the scan and noting a significant increase in the killer's size after it ingested the other and continued to tumble onward. "Wonder what other little surprises this place has in store?" He shook his head and turned toward the nearby temple, hovering above it as he studied a peculiarity.

"Odd, it has an energy field surrounding it," he tepped, "though it appears to be at an odd frequency that _should_ allow us entry."

"Hmm," Tarna hmmed. "That's interesting. Perhaps to keep the erm, plant life out?"

Melaran landed, following after he adjusts the ship's shields to use the same frequency as the barrier around the temple. He kept his rifle at the ready for any signs of the local flora/fauna/carnivorous weeds.

"Most likely," he replied. "I can't imagine those would be good on anything that was constructed in the area. Shields should keep anything from getting too amorous toward the ship, at least."

"Let's hope so, then," Tarna commented. "See what we can find then..."

"Allow me," Melaran tepped, offering a quick, sweeping bow, and then stepping across the threshold of the barrier in a few light strides... with no apparent ill effect. "Seems safe enough," he added blandly.

Melaran suddenly snapped his rifle in her direction suddenly and opened fire, the mono-edged shurikens screaming out and trimming a wandering tumbleweed down by a few inches. The wound was sufficient to deter it, and it veered in another direction with a high-pitched keening.

"I would recommend against ordering the salad," Melaran tepped dryly.

Tarna snickered softly and headed over to cross the shield as well. The temple was much the same as the other, down to the oddly familiar glyphs carved along the entryway. Inside, however, without the disorder of the last there was quite a bit more sense to the arrangement. A console built into a pedestal sat in the middle of the chamber, crystalline lines glowing faintly as they fed power into it. The far wall was nearer than it had been in the other, making the room a perfect square rather than rectangular.

"Ah, yes, this is much better. No gaping holes or bits of debris," Tarna observed, taking a good look around the place and peering at the console a bit.

"Much better," Melaran agreed, walking around the room slowly and studying the basic design. The console was very simple, consisting of a screen that was scrolling endlessly through various statistics and meaningless numerical sequences, as well as two buttons which were unlabelled but color-coded green and red.

"So," Tarna tepped, looking over things. "Do you have any idea what any of this is _for_?"

"Got me," Melaran replied with a shrug, moving closer to take a look at the console as well. "Looks more like something the Empire of Man or humans in general would do, though the power source..." He shook his head and crouched to take a look at the pedestal itself, running a fingertip lightly along the crystal pathways. "I've seen that sort of work before, definitely _not_ human origin."

"Interesting," Tarna observed. "I don't believe I've seen that particular juxtaposition of technologies frequently. The Vriktau, the Veladrites, the Karzans..."

"Looks like the control interfaces are human in origin," Melaran said thoughtfully, "while the underlying structure as a whole is similar to the technology of the Eldar, though clearly not identical. So, as the resident expert on humans, what do _you_ make of the controls? They seem a little, uh, simplified to me. Maybe dangerously so."

"This is clearly the peon interface and not the developer's terminal," Tarna observed. "This doesn't look like a place where any real work would get done... so where? And considering the damage at the other temple, I don't imagine we'd be able to reproduce this very easily... I can't say I'm an expert in engineering."

"Neither am I," Melaran agreed. "The extent of the damage there is far beyond anything I could conceivably do so that it ends up looking like this. That's strange, though..." he trailed off, musing as he looked around. "Okay, so Mira's people dealt with these things and interfaced with them in a way that allowed more complex commands than those buttons would suggest... so, where's this 'Avatar'?"

"Speak the nature of your request," came a distinctly feminine voice, power flowing through the pedestal and bringing a holographic image of an ethereal woman made of water into being.

"Oh, well, that helps," Tarna commented. "Hello!" she addressed the image in a friendly manner. "Listen, one of the other temples has been damaged fairly badly, would you happen to be able to point us to someone that might be able to fix it perhaps?"

"The requirements of all local avatar units must be addressed directly through the command protocol," the being replied, continuing the mental communication. "Failing its ability to do so, one may seek the guidance of the local node to assess and rectify the situation."

"Er, yeah, see, that's the problem," Tarna replied. "It's kind of in many small pieces at the moment."

"Fatal interruption of an avatar unit may be addressed directly to the local node," it replied, "That node is connected to all local avatar units and be aware at any given time, but in the event of a nodal failure the Digital Oversight General Management Assessor will attend to the repairs."

"Okay, so where is this node thing then?"

A map of the sector flashed into being, anything beyond sector control is blacked out. Faint lines of light indicated the current boundaries which are functioning, all of them inevitably converging on a brighter icon at the center of the map which was pulsing lightly.

"The local sector node is located here," it replied.

"Right back where we started," Melaran muttered, noting their location and the distance to the central node. "Center stage of the Mesar. How delightful."

"Well, at least we know that's the place to go now at any rate," Tarna commented. "I'd hate to have gotten in there only to find out it was a waste of effort."

"True enough," Melaran replied, then turns thoughtful attention to the map. "Hmm, I wonder... Avatar," he directed toward the being, "Do you have access to the full map of this sphere? Please display if so."

The image grew larger, additional areas coming into existence quickly, though there are a few sectors that were clearly missing.

"Interesting," Tarna commented. "Hmm, definitely looks like there are other issues here and there. So is this place completely automated, then?"

"That or there's something in those sectors that we're not allowed to see," Melaran posited, but went silent as the avatar responded to her question.

"This avatar has remained operational without supervisory intervention for ten thousand, four hundred and fifty Standard years."

"Well, that's definitely before my time," Tarna observed lightly. "What information can you give us on who built this place? Some of this stuff seems vaguely familiar..."

"Construction was completed ten thousand four hundred and fifty-nine years ago," the avatar replied, "and specimen species were immediately transferred to their respective areas as quickly as possible following that time to allow for the maximum adaptation to the changes in environment as possible before being open to public display. The Founder has arranged for various tours and events, programs of which may be obtained through standard terminals for a small fee."

Tarna mulled over that contemplatively. "I think we'll pass on the tours for the moment, maybe later," Tarna replied. "We'll be going to visit that node now, then. Tata."

The images vanished without further word, Melaran turning toward the door to make his way out.

"What the hell?" he mused, "Someone created all of this... for tourists? They transplanted at least _one_ sentient species here, for the _amusement_ of others?"

A low boiling anger and deep disgust accompany the tirade as he heads back toward the ship.

"Apparently so," Tarna mused, following him out. "This thing seems to be one big interstellar zoo, then? That would explain the barriers at least... to keep them from intermingling too much and killing one another off or something."

Climbing back aboard the craft, Melaran fumed, "Tarna, I love you dearly, but the more I see of your native kind throughout the universes, the more I've come to the conclusion that humanity sucks."

"Oh, yeah, I knew that decades ago," Tarna replied with a bit of a smirk. "One has to wonder why they ended up so prevalent in the universe and not some other random species."

The reply drew a chuckle from Melaran, and he settled in to return to the air. "Probably some pact with ancient and forbidden gods, I'd wager," he replied, then switched subjects as swiftly as the craft pivoted and streaked back the way they'd come. "So, any suggestions on how to approach this? Comparing the Mesar to the Orks may not be too far a stretch with the mechanical add-ons, not a pleasant scenario."

"Well, I imagine we want the place intact so let's rule out an aerial bombardment for the moment," Tarna commented wryly. "And I somehow doubt they'll listen to 'We come in peace, don't hurt us.'..."

"Somehow I doubt it," Melaran replied dryly. "I think that I'm rather inclined to believe Mira on that one, which leaves orbital bombardment a valid option in my opinion... Just kidding." He chuckled and then clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "Hmm, I have no clue whether stealth approach via ground routes would work either, it would depend on what sort of augmentation they've been up to."

"I would suggest teleportation, but may not be possible nor a good idea considering the circumstances. I don't know what sort of stuff they've got involved or how it might mess with that... hmm."

"Maybe take a look inside and go from there?" Melaran asked. "Other than that the only other option I'm coming up with is landing near the temple to let you out and then providing fire support from in here. Tactically sound, but not sure how well the natives might react to that or what they could do about it if they put their minds to it."

"I think the best bet would be if they weren't around to annoy us, and I'm not sure how well a distraction might work to get them away, nor long enough."

"I knew I should have paid closer attention in the 'bizarre tactical situations' class," Melaran chuckled. "How many times do you need to get into the center of an enemy camp without destroying everything on the way? Then again..." He went silent for a moment, clearly turning a thought over. "If we were to land far enough away, I could carry you to the center and duck inside before anyone noticed. Or hopefully anyway. Either way, the temple doorway is a narrow enough space to defend, and they might think twice about going crazy hostile in the presence of their Avatar."

"Perhaps... but then there's the issue of getting out again, too."

"Step out the door and away we go," Melaran replied. "As long as they don't have missile launchers or energy weapons, we should be alright. There _is_ a reason I chose this Aspect, besides just loving to fly, the ability to speed from one place to another is a great tactical asset."

Tarna grinned. "Well, it sounds as good a plan as anything I can come up with."

"Sure beats walking up and offering your infamous tea and cookies," Melaran replied. "Though maybe we're wrong about them, maybe they're really fine and upstanding individuals who're just looking for a nice social night out... Right, and humans aren't the cockroaches in the universe's cupboards."

He chuckled and turned their course, looking for a likely spot to land the cloaked craft where it wouldn't be stumbled upon.

"I imagine they'd be perfectly friendly if we looked like them," Tarna said. "But then I don't think we could convincingly throw together rubber suits on short notice."

"Rubber suits?" Melaran asked. "Okay, enough oddball references until you explain the ones you've already made, deal? Otherwise you might wake up one day to find your armor a nice, shiny, fluorescent pink... or some equally obnoxious and eye-searing color!"

The ship eased downward, the best place he had found actually being on top of one of their buildings. So long as he left the contragrav fully online, they'd never know it was there.

"I'll explain later. I think," Tarna commented, watching him park the ship. "Here's to hoping..."

"You'd better," Melaran replied with mock ferocity, then chuckled as he rose and slipped an arm around her waist. "May as well make this quick as possible, so hold on because we're gonna jump as soon as the canopy's open."

Tarna held on and absently prayed quietly, prepared to fight on a moment's notice if it came to it.

"And they said I'd never have the courage to sweep a beautiful lady off her feet," Melaran jested lightly. "Here we go!"

Only a faint hum accompanied the activation of the wings of his armor, the glittering plates shimmering into motion and sending them soaring aloft in a graceful arc. Melaran touched down lightly near the temple entrance and dashed inside, not loosing his grip until then. No hue and outcry for blood greeted them.

The interior of this temple, Tarna notes as she's set back to her feet, is considerably different than the others. Smooth walls encircle them in graceful curves, the only visible feature to the chamber being a faceted crystal set into an ornately-decorated gold circle in the center.

Tarna only took a moment to glance about, glancing toward the door for signs of pursuit or anyone caring about their passing. She seemed faintly surprised that, under the circumstances, nothing seemed to have been shooting at them. Then she turned to examine the room more closely.

"Hmm. Is this that node that was mentioned?"

"Indeed it is," came a distinctly familiar feminine voice, though the image which appeared was considerably more solid and corporeal than the one before as it swirled upward from the crystal.


	5. More Questions

"And who might you be, to seek me out after these many long years? Your appearance would suggest Elorai'isin, yet more detailed scanner analysis registers sufficient anomalies to say otherwise."

"El...orai'isin?" Tarna thought slowly. "No, we're--we're Eldar. Possibly distantly related, but we're, so to speak, not from around here. We were looking for assistance for repairing a damaged... avatar?"

"Eldar, catalogued," the node replied, "There is, however, sufficient relation to a known enemy to humanity that I'm afraid severe restrictions have been set into place regarding what I may do or answer to you. You mentioned one of the avatar units requiring repair, at what coordinates is it to be found, what is its current status, and what occurred to impair it communicating its distress directly to me as per protocol?"

Tarna stated the location of the place and described the status in which she and Melaran found it in.

"Oh, that," the being replied with a negligent wave. "I remember losing contact with it some five thousand or so Standard years ago and didn't see a reason to replace it, the two species _were_ intended as participants in one of the Founder's programs, after all. That _is_ why they were placed near each other in the first place."

"Well, it was apparently leaking and causing other problems as well," Tarna commented. "We put in a temporary fix to stop that, but we're not very familiar with this technology."

"Well thank you," the node replied, "that makes my decision to leave the species in conflict without additional considerations needing to be taken into place. Wonderful creatures, really, a pity that the Founder has clearly not found a broader market for the service as the speed and agility of one pitted against the brute strength and savagery of the other makes for spectacular gladiatorial offerings."

Tarna politely refrained from comment on that assessment. "The barrier is not really my concern. As well it remains down. The primary concern I had was the fact that the leaks caused by the damaged systems have been causing undue damage to the ... specimens."

"The mutagenic properties of exposure to the energies converted and controlled for the park's power needs is not necessarily a debilitating condition," the node replied, "In fact, in some small percentage of cases it may well prove of significant benefit to those affected as additional abilities or appendages useful for survival in the arena are acquired."

Tarna made a face and didn't even bother trying to hide her disgust at that. The node merely looked at Tarna with a superior smile. One might almost come to the conclusion that it was deliberately antagonizing her for reasons of its own. Melaran remained silent, apparently lost in thought as he walked with casual steps around the circumference of the room.

Tarna shook her head for a moment and decided to just change the subject lest she attempt to punch something. "What happened to the people who made this place? When was the last time any of them came here?"

"The Founder is a member of the majority human species which comprised the Terran Hegemony," the being replied. "Full operational status of this facility has never been activated, though it had been intended to open the many entertainment opportunities to the public within five years of completing construction. No explanation has been forthcoming in the delay, which at over ten millennia is somewhat unusual."

"Yes, I would have to agree with that assessment," Tarna commented with a bit of a smirk. "Hmm..."

"Countering the will and stated order of the Founder or the Digital Oversight General Management Assessor is not within my domain, however," the node continued. "Some measure of leeway is of course provided for interpretation, and I have taken advantage of the lapse to consider such matters."

"I would imagine so," Tarna replied. "Curious... I wonder what happened... I doubt the answer to that will be readily forthcoming here, however..."

"This isn't human design," Melaran tepped narrowly to Tarna. "I've been looking as I've been wandering aimlessly, and I'd hazard a guess that the humans co-opted some of the technology from these 'Elorai'isin', then rigged it with crude devices to maintain some kind of control. It looks like the equivalent of holding a fusion gun to someone's head, but I suppose that'd be enticement enough to remain cooperative."

"I exist to serve," the node replied with a sardonic bow. "You need only ask the proper questions and I shall endeavor to enlighten you within the parameters of what may be allowed by the military protocols in place due to your potential allegiance."

"What was the intended purpose of this facility?" Tarna asked, although she already has a fair hint of that at any rate.

"Following the extended wars with varied races including the Elorai'isin, the Kilrathi, and others," the node replied. "The Founder sought to create a habitat where species endangered by the acts of the Hegemony as a whole might be preserved for posterity, the additional incentive for their preservation intended to be to display their attractive aspects to the human collective to garner support."

"The Founder struck on the means of creating the sphere from twentieth century theory and philosophy, pandering to the mass attraction of entertainment to drive the imagination."

"So, in other words, a gigantic zoo?" Tarna mused. "Hmm."

"In essence," the being replied. "Or perhaps more accurately a theme park with the various species as exhibits, while events catering to more esoteric demographics were devised. Truly a revolutionary idea and utterly human approach to an ideal."

"Right..." Tarna mulled over it a bit. "So how many of these nodes are there? And they're all interconnected, or do you only have full access to a limited area?"

"There are eight central nodes, six canvassing a sixty degree arc of the sphere along the equator and one each at relative north and south. The territories involved are immense, each node controlling a surface area roughly equivalent to a hundred million times larger than Terra. Broad swathes were left intentionally undeveloped that they might be applied to other projects later, and one sector was ceded to HMC control."

"HMC?" Tarna wondered.

"Hegemony Military Command," the being replied."As part of the agreement to allow the transport and containment of hostile and dangerous beings, an installation was required to be installed for their use... What are you doing?" the last was directed at Melaran, the shimmering projection whirling to look at him suspiciously.

He spread his hands in feigned innocence, "Merely studying design and function."

"I think that will be all for now," Tarna commented. "We'll be going now, then." She smirked faintly at Melaran.

"So easily dissuaded?" the entity replied mockingly. "Have the kin of the Elorai'isin truly fallen to such depths and lack of spirit? Go on, then, but beware the things that creep in the night to frighten you to high pitched screaming."

"..." Tarna projected. Very clearly stating the periods, even. "What are you talking about?"

"Do not ask that which I cannot clearly speak," the node replied evasively, then shook its head as it began to sink back into the crystal. "Go. I will see that a repair request is forwarded to the central authority regarding the shattered avatar."

"Alright then..." Tarna replied uncertainly, glancing toward Melaran and turning for the door, still rather confused.

"Wait Tarna..." Melaran tepped in the open, looking at the seemingly vacant crystal node. "Doesn't that strike you as odd? Do you remember your answer to Bob when he asked what you wanted, but you had to be very careful about what you said?"

"What do you mean?" she replied.

"Think a second, silly one," Melaran chuckled quietly, moving to crouch down near the crystal itself and touching the gold rim around it. "To humans it's all about control in the end, isn't it? Doesn't matter what else it might cost, so long as you have a way to force others to do your will in one way or another. This isn't any different, even if the 'person' in question is nothing more than a highly complex computer node."

Tarna frowned thoughtfully and gave a bit of a nod. "Perhaps so... Let's go."

"Probably best," Melaran agreed, shaking his head faintly as he rises and moves away from the crystal. "Even if the control mechanisms were removed, there's nothing saying the intelligence would be inclined to be helpful anyway." He strode toward the door, extending an arm. "Get ready for a quick take-off, just in case the natives are restless."

Tarna gave a nod and went close to him heading for the doorway. The scene waiting outside was actually relatively quiet as they emerge, though there were indications that the Mesar were indeed in an uproar about something. A quick glance around revealed four of them laying crumpled nearby in locations clearly intended to provide concealment before an ambush. Whether they were alive or dead wasn't immediately clear.

Tarna wasn't particularly inclined to give it a closer look from the ground at the moment, however, and nodded to Melaran in indication to get to the ship. As well to get a look from the air if she still cared, regardless.

Melaran complied readily, curiosity not such a strong motivator when faced by the sorts of creatures clearly in control here. Not only was their size and bulk comparable to the upper echelons of the Ork hordes, but the augmentation looked to be comparable in form and function, primarily in the range of crude weapons and limb replacements. 

No long range fire greeted their short flight, though the roars from below indicated that they were indeed spotted, and Melaran climbed quickly back aboard the ship to prepare for departure before the creatures could decide on a means to ascend the building.

Tarna took a seat and commented, "I'm sure they're a most fascinating people, but I don't care to examine them from that close up at the moment, really."

"Nor do I," Melaran replied with a light chuckle, bringing the craft above a level where the Mesar could reach them and setting it into a silent hover. "Where now, then?"

"Shall we head back and tell the cats the news?"

"As the lady wishes," Melaran replied crisply, the ship swivelling to bring them to bear on a return course to the lands of the felinoids. "Land outside and proceed as before, or try to find somewhere nearer their village? Not really looking to spook them, but don't want to get lost either." he chuckled.

"Just remember where we parked," Tarna chuckled lightly. "I'm sure I can find the way back."

"I didn't sign on to this Aspect to be a foot soldier," Melaran grumbled good-naturedly.

Their route across the intervening miles took little time, and came to a sharp halt some small distance from the fringe of the darker forest lands as he checked the scanners.

"Well, looks like that did some good after all..." Melaran observed, "the barrier's back in place."

He edged the ship over the field and descended to find a landing spot on the far side.

"I'm sure they'll be glad about that... more or less." Tarna commented as they landed. "Definitely a force barrier, by Elkandu terminology at least."

"Similar to the Eldar use of energy shielding for spacecraft as well," Melaran agreed, settling the ship gently to ground within the envelope of the barrier. "Let's go deliver some good news," he added, standing and popping the cockpit open.

Tarna hopped out and strolled off toward the village again brightly. Their journey was uneventful, and despite Melaran's facetious complaint against getting lost there was no difficulty in finding the village at the center. It became increasingly simple as they near, in fact, as there was a low thrum of power echoing from that direction and the source turned out to be a pair of large robotic constructs standing to either side of the temple hill.

"Wow, nice," Tarna commented, observing them for a moment. She stepped up the pace and headed in toward the village.

The purpose of the cleared circle they'd noticed around the node temple became clear as they neared, a faintly shimmering wall of force rising from its edges and arcing upward to form a dome over the heads of the robots. A sickly mist roiled and bubbled along the ground, clearly spewing forth from the rupture as the robots used energy projectors to atomize the hill layer by layer without regard for its current state.

Most of the villagers that were nearby had emerged from their homes or the cover of the trees to observe the spectacle with varying degrees of awe. Some few of them had clearly been affected by the leakage before now, random mutations appearing here and there among them. Shar was standing near the central building in studied silence, relying on the aid of the felinoid guard for support rather than his daughter nearby.

Tarna stood and watched for several long moments. "Well... I guess it did work then..." She was still slightly confused about the sudden change in attitude that had brought on the promise to repair the temple, but not about to complain overmuch.

"Perhaps not so unhelpful as appearances may have led to believe," Melaran tepped quietly.

Melaran studied the actions of the repair 'crew' as they finished razing the hill and leveled the ground out. Myriad tentacles emerged from the lower arms of the robots, their tips sparking energy as they descend into the mist and begin the more detailed work of reconstructing the temple itself.

Noticing them, Mira brightened noticeably and bounded in their direction. "You woke the servitors!" she sent, equally exuberant emotion welling to reinforce the sentiment. "What did you do? How did you do it? Did you talk to Dog?" A thousand other questions were obviously at the edge of her thoughts, but remained unspoken for the moment.

"We spoke with the node in the temple in the Mesar village," Tarna replied, still not too sure just who this 'Dog' might be.

Waving aside the aid of the guard, Shar turned to look at them thoughtfully. "Mira, do not pester our guests," he scolded lightly, though it looked to wash right over the enthusiasm of his headstrong daughter and he chuckled indulgently, a basso rumble. "Come inside," he directed to Tarna and Melaran, "There are things which must be said."

He turned and walked down into the building. Tarna followed him inside with a nod. Shar led them back into the chamber they'd met in before, returning to his mound of cushions and sinking gratefully into them before motioning the others to other cushions scattered here and there.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable if you wish," he sent politely, flicking an ear to Mira and she went to curl up near him. "I would ask, however," he added, "that you remove your helmets that we may all speak at ease here." It was the first indication they'd gotten that anyone here recognized their armor for what it was.

Tarna gave a nod and went to remove her helmet and take a seat. "Alright then."

Melaran removed his helm as well, moving to settle near Tarna in his accustomed, casual repose, wariness and curiosity warring for primacy in his expression.

"Do not look so surprised," Shar sent, his body language lending itself to the impression of deep amusement. "Did you truly believe that I would forget those who once saved my people from destruction, particularly when they do so again this day?"

Tarna raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I don't know of the incident to which you refer to. But then I can't say we're exactly from around here, regardless."

"No, I would think not," Shar replied, "Your own people run free no more than mine do now, not for many, many years now. Where you are from, I could not begin to guess, but the similarities of style and grace could never be mistaken for any other. It was they who befriended us first, and shared the forests of our home before the coming of those they called Chazat. When those destroyers came, our old friends sought to protect and spirit us away from the world that they said the invaders would not leave in peace due to some mineral to be found there. They were at war even then, yet still did they remember us and brought us from that world on their own craft in hopes of finding a place of peace once again. That was not to be, however, as the Chazat found and ravaged the..." he paused, searching for the word he'd heard only rarely, "fleet. They captured those who survived and brought us here... along with the few who yet remained of your blood."

"And the humans brought you here to be exhibits in some sort of zoo?" Tarna sent, her thoughts tinged with disgust that anyone, even humans, could treat sentient beings that way.

"Such was apparently their intention," Shar replied, "Though certainly not all of it, as in the early years there were those of my people who were spirited away much as the servitors come and go. Those who returned told tales of being set to battle Mesar, and those who did not... I assume they did not survive the ordeal. These 'humans', I assume they are the same Chazat mentioned by those of your blood. Whether those of our friends who were brought here as well yet survive, I could not guess."

"The node mentioned something about an arena..." Tarna frowned. "But the humans seemed to have disappeared, and I doubt they'd have gone to the trouble to build this place and populate it only to abandon it, so something must have happened outside. There were others like us here, you say?..."

Shar nodded in acknowledgement. "Indeed. They were at war with the Cha... the humans, but from what little I heard it did not appear to be going well. There were some survivors from the fleet that originally lifted us from our home, and I did see them directed elsewhere to be dealt with. Whether that meant killing them or placing them somewhere here is unknown to me."

"If they're somewhere around here, perhaps we'll be able to find them..." Tarna mused. "I do hope..."

"If they are to be found," Shar replied, "I would suspect that an Avatar would know where, or be able to confirm that they were never released into this world."

Tarna gave a nod, glancing to Melaran. "Looks like we have another quest, then. Thank you for the information. Is there anything else for which we may be needed here?"

"You have done more than I could have hoped," Shar answered, "Though should you indeed find the remaining numbers of our allies, I would be grateful should you tell them they have and will not be forgotten... any more than their distant kin."

He looked at the two of them thoughtfully, then inclined his head in quiet thanks. Tarna bowed her head slightly to him and went to stand and replace her helmet. Melaran unfolded gracefully and rose, offering a nod as well before replacing his helm and turning for the door.

"That would certainly explain the conglomerate technologies," he tepped to Tarna. "There's enough similarity between what I've noticed and the Eldar, or even the portals in Torn Elkandu, that I could see a triumphant conqueror having 'borrowed' it for their own use."

Tarna nodded in agreement. "And not like Karzan technology, where it was seamless and interwoven, indicative of a close alliance instead. I don't care to visit the Mesar again unless necessary. Shall we see if the one with the militant tumbleweeds can give us an answer then?"

"May as well," Melaran replied.

He looked over toward the temple area as they left, making note of final stages of the repairs. The work appendages of the robots retracted into the arms, the last of the ethereal mist being purged through one means or another, and the shield vanished at the same instant that the robots disappeared into thin air.

"I wonder, however," he mused, thinking on the spectacle, "whether the networked avatars will have access to the information we seek. They seem to have compartmentalized things a lot, probably at the demands of this Hegemony Military Command the node mentioned."

"It's worth a shot, regardless. If we don't find out anything useful we can try someplace else or just scan around ourselves if need be." She headed over toward where they parked the ship.

"Care to take a shortcut?" Melaran asked, offering an arm with quiet amusement. "I'm not quite so addle-brained as to have lost our ship entirely, I just didn't feel like walking."

Tarna giggled and replied, "If you like."

"How could I resist the opportunity?" Melaran chuckled.

He swept her up and leapt into the sky with a faint hum of power, a much quicker mode of transport to be certain as the return was a matter of a minute or more at most. He settled lightly to the ground near the ship and returns her to her feet, offering a bow.

"Forever at your service," he quipped and climbed back into the ship.

Tarna giggled and hopped inside. "And off we go."

"Back to the land of carnivorous plants," Melaran muttered, lifting the ship once she was settled in and setting the course. "Really have to wonder what this 'Founder' was thinking when he was collecting his exhibits. Bad enough that he went for sentient species, but obviously dangerous ones as well?"

"Humans have been putting dangerous wild animals on display for their own amusement for some time. This place in some ways reminds me of the place where I grew up, Khizsalr... but the Walls were different, glowing golden and opaque, and there were the Towers at the corners of the provinces and not the center, but there's similarities..."

"So instead of one land of the mad," Melaran replied, "we find ourselves in another entirely, walls included, and the wardens all seem a little bit off their sanity."

He shook his head, the land beneath them speeding by as they made their way toward the domain of the killer tumbleweeds. On the bright side, there didn't appear to be any of them near as they came in to land. Perhaps the smell of one's 'blood' drove them away. Tarna nonetheless displayed a modicum of caution as she got out once they have landed and headed toward the temple.

"Here's to hoping..." Tarna said.

Melaran was cautious as well, rifle remaining ready as they crossed the short distance to the shield in remembrance of the swift and silent approach of the last one. Nothing leapt from the landscape to chew on their armor, however, and they entered the temple without difficulty.

Tarna strolled inside, rather more comfortable about potentially aggressive plants than potentially aggressive giant lizards, and tepped, "Now, let's see if this avatar can tell us anything about the matter, then..."

At the mention of the word, the shimmering image appeared before them. "How may I serve?" it inquired politely, either unknowing or not mentioning recognition in any sense.

"Right then," Tarna tepped. "We were wondering if you could tell us if there were any of the Elorai'isin within this facility?"

"I am sorry," the avatar replied, "information regarding that species is restricted by the Hegemony Military Command, specifically articles two thirty-nine to four fifty, as classified under the Hegemony articles of war. Please state your authorization code or override command to bypass this restriction."

"Uh-huh, that's what I thought," Tarna thought rhetorically. "Cancel request."

"As you wish," the avatar replied, "Is there anything else that you require?"

"Could we see that map again please?"

The map reappeared, the full-sized one that they'd last viewed rather than the one of the current node's control area, indicating that there was at least some basic recognition of the last visit. Tarna looked over the map, paying particular attention to the areas that it did not display.

"Are the blacked out areas indicative of restricted information or damaged systems?"

"There are no inoperable central nodes," the avatar replied. "Any zones displayed are within the public domain and scheduled to be added to the facility programming in the future, either with existing flora and fauna or species as yet to be determined."

Tarna tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Could you overlay labels on what could be found in each section?"

Generic labels appeared, the inclination of the system appearing to be climatological, one entire node apparently dedicated to nothing beyond sea-going creatures. The current node they were in was labeled as Temperate, the one at the 'south' pole apparently being arctic while the north was one of the blank zones. There was only one blank in the equatorial region.

"Can you change the labels to indicate what sort of specimens can be observed where?" Tarna requested.

The label system changed, though there was not a lot of sense that seemed to come out of it as it was just a species name with an enlargeable image set next to it. One unmistakable trait emerged, however, in that the species that were set in the center of the nodes were invariably dangerously hostile.

Tarna looked over the map with interest, peering at the images thoughtfully. "Most fascinating... hmm..."

Looking at the display as well, Melaran tried to make some sense out of the arrangement beyond mere climate. Predatory species caged next to herbivores, more herbivores on the other side, then a couple more sections of predators. There might be others that were destined to be set against each other, but there wasn't any real way to tell from here. There were also vast empty patches listed simply as 'Pending'.

"Okay," he tepped, "I'll bite, what's fascinating? I'm not seeing much of any sense in any of it, about what I'd expect from someone who hadn't thought things through to the end."

Tarna smirked faintly and continued to examine the map. "Will have to put this into the ship's database, I think, will certainly save some time on our... sightseeing." She smirked a bit more.

A crystalline cube materialized next to the console. "Map requests are integral to the service," the avatar explained, the replication also serving to address any curiosity as to how the avatars aided their client species.

Tarna took it and glanced over it briefly and said, "Thank you very much, I believe that will be all for now."

The image flickers out of existence at the dismissal. "Wonderful," Melaran tepped with teasing exasperation. "You're adapting to the Eldar mental forms quite readily." He chuckled, shaking his head, and walked toward the door.

"Hmm?" Tarna replied as she headed out with him, 'map' in hand.

"You are being cryptic and enigmatic," Melaran replied, returning to a watchful stance as they neared the forcefield for any signs of the local wildlife.

"More interesting than what they'd tell us is what they aren't telling us," Tarna commented.

"I could think of a thousand and one things they're not talking about," Melaran responded, covering their return to the ship and sealing it tightly after. "What in particular is striking you as fascinating, though?"

"I think we'd be well-served by a look at the spots on this sphere that the map does not show us," Tarna replied, settling into her seat again.

"Notice that no one's mentioned the planet near the sun either?" Melaran asked, lifting off. "Remember how welcome we were _there_? One of those zones was designated as controlled by the military, so not likely a safe place to go, but which of the two would that be?"

"Indeed," Tarna mused. "And we've already tried that planet, so let's take a look over the other for now... and see what we might find."

"Fair enough," Melaran replied, cycling weapon and shield systems up to full readiness just as a precaution. "Which zone would the lady first seek the dragon within? There are arguments which could be made in favor of either one from a militaristic standpoint."

"The north one," Tarna replied. "I want to see what they're hiding here."

"Aye Captain," Melaran replied, skewing the ship sharply upward to bring them out of the relatively thin layer of atmosphere.


	6. Unexpected Defenses

The northern quadrant was currently at an angle best reached in that manner, the distance requiring a somewhat longer period of travel. "Preliminary scans..." he tepped absently, sifting through the data. "Looks like there's definitely something interfering, can't get any clear returns."

"Of course there is," Tarna replied dryly, peering over that way.

The land below as they approached nearer appeared to be predominantly featureless, rolling plains. A glimpse was caught of a single, low-lying structure nestled amidst ground swells, sensors finally managing to get past the scrambling field as they dropped below a certain distance. Tunnels were networked throughout the node, at least as far as the scans could detect in the moments before Melaran tepped tersely, "Incoming!"

A lance of fire slashed out from an as-yet unidentified source beyond the structure they'd noted, slamming into the ship's shields and sending it spinning end over end.

Tarna wasn't the least bit surprised that there are defenses. "Drop back out of range."

Melaran regained control of the sleek ship readily, attention flickering over damage readings even as he drove upward to hopefully get out of range _and_ kept an eye on the instruments for signs of any further incoming fire.

"That was like taking a fusion gun shot at close range," he muttered, then cursed as another precisely aligned shot streaked out at them again. 

"It's a _tank_ ," he tepped disbelievingly.

Melaran continued to twist the craft in a random evasive pattern. The sensors now clearly displayed the rumbling mountain of the machine in question, somewhere along three hundred feet long and bristling with weapons that _still_ had range on them as they broke out of atmosphere.

"Well, I think that's a fair indication they're hiding something there they don't want us to see, then," Tarna commented dryly as she stared back down at the thing. 

A few final shots followed them past the air envelope, the beams still far too cohesive and potentially lethal for Melaran's taste.

"Who the hell built _that_ monstrosity?" he asked rhetorically. "The anti-grav propulsion I could easily see from this universe's equivalent of the Eldar, but I have never seen anything _nearly_ that lethal in a land-bound craft. It's like a capital ship's beams!"

The rush of adrenaline that went with surviving a near brush with death began to fade, and he checked the damage reports again.

"Repair systems are gonna be busy for a while fixing this," he shook his head disgustedly. "Good thing we didn't catch the full beam."

"Yeah..." Tarna commented. "Let's take a look at what scans we did manage to get. They're definitely hiding something there, no doubt about it."

The scans that they managed to get before the attack drove them off were fairly good, revealing an intricately networked systems of tunnels and large chambers that were likely underground bunkers, storage areas, munition depots, and so forth.

"I'd say that'd be their military command," Melaran tepped dryly. "Odd that there don't appear to be signs of any other defensive systems. Not that they appear to _need_ them, but still..."

"Apparently so," Tarna mused, peering over the scans intently, then taking a look at the readout of what was attacking them again. "That's insane... but considering this entire construction is insane, I suppose it shouldn't be surprising."

They did get a reading on the mammoth war machine as well, the power levels it radiated were off the scale for anything short of a heavy capital ship. There was clearly a high degree of ECM radiating from it as well, but none of the scans showed any signs of life.

"Considering what we've seen so far," Melaran tepped thoughtfully, "It's really got me wondering what's happening... or happened on the outside. We've yet to see a single sign of the humans that apparently constructed this place, that doesn't make any _sense_."

"Maybe they got obliterated in a war against something even more powerful, or wiped out by a devastating plague, or assimilated by a horde of mindless cyborgs, or ascended to a higher plane of existence, or..."

Melaran snorted. "I wouldn't bet on the ascending to a higher state of existence angle, not with what we've already seen. My bet would be on getting wiped out in one war or another."

"Yeah, it's not too likely, but one can never rule out the unlikely entirely," Tarna commented.

"Sure," Melaran retorted with a chuckle. "They ascend and just happen to leave all these nasty things laying about to cause havoc. Seriously negligent there." He shook his head, tweaking the repair routines a little through the gestalt, then asked, "So check the other one, or assume it's extremely hostile territory as well?"

"May as well take a peek. Carefully," Tarna replied. "Once the repairs are done at any rate."

"That's going to be a few hours," Melaran replied, checking the time estimate. "The fringe of that beam scoured our aft side pretty good, melted down a lot of the circuitry in the area as well. Boiled right over the shields... if I didn't think they were crazy, I'd be in love with them right now. The firepower!"

Tarna giggled. "Let's sit tight for the moment, then. It's not like we've any real cause to hurry at the moment. Not like the sun's about to go supernova or anything..."

"Oh great," Melaran replied, laughing lightly. "Something else I didn't set the sensors to check when we arrived. Are there any other pearls of wisdom to share, my darling ray of sunshine?"

It may have been in jest, but he _did_ set aside a few cycles of sensor scans for the project of assessing the local star's stability. Thankfully, at least _one_ thing in this place is stable.

Tarna laughed quietly. "Oh, I'm not too worried about that... I mean, it doesn't _look_ like a bloated red giant or anything. Not that that always means much either. But anyway. Let's fly over the regions more likely to be not shooting at us and take a look at things a bit more in the meantime. Sightseeing, et cetera."

"As you command,' Melaran chuckles, "They can't _all_ be homicidal lunatics out for the blood of strangers, after all."

Well, technically they could as his own universe of origin proved, but he wasn't going to mention that. Not _everyone_ in that universe was a xenophobic lunatic. Just... most of them. He set a course for one of the nearer sectors, reaching up to remove his helmet after doing so.

"Y'know, I've been thinking about something," he tepped. "You've got this mishmash of technology, right?"

"Hmm?" Tarna inquired, glancing over to him again.

"Well, I was just thinking about the nodes and avatars," Melaran explained. "They're more or less connected to each other, and to this central command they've mentioned, and they've managed to stay that way without any sort of interference for ten thousand some odd years. Pretty impressive considering the instability inherent in mucking about with technology you don't understand. And from what I took a look at when we talked to the node, I'm pretty sure the humans had _no_ idea what they were really doing when they set these things up. It's like they scooped them out of pre-created installations, wired a fusion gun to their heads, and set them loose with a series of instructions. Have to wonder just how loyal they'd be to their human captors if those guns were removed."

"You have a point there," Tarna replied. "Hacking the system and taking control of the place away from the absentee humans?"

"Could be worth a shot." Melaran nodded. "Almost makes me wonder if that wasn't what that first node was edging around in the first place. Seemed to be trying awfully hard to get an emotional response from us, and then when we leave it goes ahead and makes sure that the cats get their home fixed? I don't know, but it's definitely something to look at."

The node they'd ended up above was largely ocean, with massive island chains scattered here and there with the occasional synthesized volcanic activity for atmosphere sake. It seemed ideal for all sorts of water and island-based life, even allowing for colder waters at the southern section.

"I did think it rather strange..." Tarna mused, looking out over the ocean. "But how do you suppose we could go about it?"

"I _did_ take a look at how they did it," Melaran replied, the ship dipping into the atmosphere and streaking out over the islands without any signs of hostile reaction. "They have the matrix core wired to three devices that looked like generators, ones that had no purpose whatsoever in supply power to the computer itself. Sever those lines..."

"Hmm..." Tarna mused some more. "Well, either it'll explode, do something else nasty, or it might help..."

"The problem is severing all three at once," Melaran replied. "Wouldn't do any good to leave one or two intact for even a second long enough for some emergency measure to kick in and do something unpleasant. Something to think about, definitely, couldn't hurt to get an ally or two around here when the other side has things like that monstrous tank."

Tarna nodded in agreement. "If it even works like you think it does. But I'll trust your assessment on it... Now how to do it though?"

Scanning an island thoroughly and the waters surrounding it, Melaran set the ship lightly down to allow the power to be put toward purposes of the repairs. It looked like a quiet, serene island, perfect for a restful getaway retreat, and no way in hell is he trusting to it.

"The controller leads were entombed about six feet under the seal," he tepped. "Only way to go about it is going to be with telekinesis or something similar."

"I don't know if my telekinetic skill is that precise, but I could certainly try it," Tarna mused some more. "And it takes a good deal of concentration to do multiple things at once... but it _is_ one of my inborn abilities."

"I can guide you," Melaran replied. "I can still see the image in my mind from when I looked at it earlier. Whether I could help or not beyond that..." He shook his head. "Probably better not to rely on that, still too many unknowns in that regard."

"Would be more comfortable to take a little practice on multi-weaving first..."

Melaran chuckles softly, smiling as he glances over at her. "Whatever time you need. The problem has been in existence for a very long time, I somehow doubt that it's going to blow up into a crisis situation in the next few minutes..." He snorted. "Unless Shazmar or Bob decided to have a bit of fun anyway."

"Don't _say_ that," Tarna teased. "Anyway, I'm sure I can manage. It's like patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time..."

She absently pulled out three colored beads from her pouch and sent them hovering into the air separately.

"Just... like.... that..."

"But where does the third hand come in?" Melaran retorted with a grin, then shook his head as he stood and popped the cockpit open. "Care to join me outside?"

He took a moment to secure his helmet at his waist and snagged his rifle, caution always being a watchword. Tarna gave a nod and went to hop out, beads floating along behind her.

"I don't have three hands."

Melaran chuckled. "My point precisely, it's that third conduit that could prove the biggest problem, although..." He glanced at the dancing beads thoughtfully before returning to scanning the island, "They _are_ at equally distant points surrounding the matrix and unmoving, that should provide some small degree of advantage."

"Thankfully the mind is not limited to the hands..."

Melaran raised a hand, giving the appearance he's about to say something, then just grinned and shook his head, returning to observing the nearby environs. The island was narrow, not more than a hundred yards across at any point and only faint hints of green here and there as plants stubbornly tried to survive there anyway, but around a mile long with water sparkling blue all round. Quite a beautiful little spot, all told.

"I've known travelers who could juggle a dozen balls with telekinesis..." Tarna commented, watching the colored beads fly through the air in circles, weaving around one another and bobbing abut.

"Practice, practice, practice," Melaran replied with a sigh. "Something we're both in need of and haven't really had the time or inclination to do."

Not entirely true, he mused, having spent any spare time in exactly those pursuits, but there always seemed to be something in life that either demanded or drew his attention. Not that he was complaining.

"Heh. Can never have too much practice. Most Elkandu don't bother much, and it's their failing."

"Really know how to twist the knife, don't you," Melaran replied with a wince, then chuckled as he settled comfortably to the sand to watch the soothing flow of the sea. "All the time in the world, and so many things to see and do with it, I doubt I'll ever have enough time to touch even half of what I'd like to."

"That's why everyone fears Chronomancers. They _do_ have the Time to do everything they want to do."

"Save me from that," Melaran replied. "Better the share I'm given and gifted than the smallest part more that's stolen." He shrugged, securing his rifle for now. "Priorities, I suppose, but that's beside the issue... well more or less. Heh. I've seen you use telekinesis before, and you seem to be doing well enough with the juggling act, how much precision and force can you apply?"

"Nngh..." The beads spun around frantically on their axes. One of them flew off and nearly hit Melaran in the face.

"Definitely require some practice," Melaran replied, reaching to snare the errant bead from the sand and then considering it thoughtfully. "Or merely leave them as they are and seek another means to the end. I'm sure the central computer core would have control over all of the node leashes, finding it would serve just as well in setting them free."

"Just a matter of practice..." Tarna insisted. "Just like Dream Ninja training... I spent weeks doing nothing but blinking around swinging my sword at practice holograms..."

"Well..." Melaran replied, looking around. "This wouldn't seem to be a bad place to take advantage of if you wanted to take the time. Seems quiet enough, and with the ship on hand we definitely don't have to worry about supplies."

As though to support the quiet image, a school of winged fish broke from the water and soared across the narrow boundary of the island. The reason for their flight was a little less reassuring, though, as a predator resembling a hybrid of human and shark shattered the serenity of the sea and arced after them, razor-toothed jaws snapping and ensnaring the hindmost before both intrusions disappeared back into the sea with a splash. The predatory creature, it might be noticed, had a belt with implements hanging from it, and held a spear in one clawed hand.

"Then again..." Melaran muttered.

Tarna rolled her eyes a bit, sending the beads into a twirl. "It would figure, of course." She shrugged faintly. "It'll take precision and force..."

Melaran rose, stretching as he unlimbered his rifle again. "These humans seem more crazed than most," he replied disgustedly. "Doesn't necessarily negate the idea of staying here a while, though, just have to keep an eye out and set up a remote security perimeter."

"Indeed," Tarna agreed, sighing as she puts away the beads for the moment. "I don't think that's really what I need to be working on, no... hmm... flinging weapons around isn't too difficult, it's getting the force itself sharp and precise enough to do it that's the issue..."

Melaran pondered that a moment, then chuckled. "Perhaps we can both get a bit of practice in, then. Let's figure out a suitable target for you to practice on, and I can take a look at the prospect of weaving a shield around the object. Sound like a plan?"

"Alright then, sounds good to me," Tarna replied.

"Now what to use as a target?" Melaran replied, thinking about it, then headed for the ship. "Actually, a perimeter sensor drone should do the trick. Delicate enough that you can 'kill' it with a force that should be about the same as the conduits require, and an equal reason for me to shield and protect it."

The shipboard replicator, he knew, could pump the things out in droves, and he set it to create a few.

"Okay..." Tarna gave a nod, watching him get that ready. "I'll see what I can manage..."

Remembering well what he'd seen of the weave of the shields at the school in Torn Elkandu, Melaran focused on creating a similar construct around the spherical drone. He couldn't be sure until she actually hit it whether the energies involved would be purely physical or not, so split the weave to incorporate a psychic shield as well. Though not wholly satisfied with the effort, he supposed it'd be good for practice.

"Have at it," he tepped lightly, setting the drone to hover and laying the spares on the ground nearby so that he could focus on maintaining the shields.

Tarna gave a nod and started concentrating on the shields, creating a telekinetic knife trying to cut through them. Much to Melaran's surprise, the shields held up quite well at first, and he continued to concentrate on strengthening them as she started to wear them down. She would doubtless 'win' merely from superior experience with her Power and the additional endurance that entailed, but he could certainly make her pay for the victory.

"You seem to have gotten a fair grasp of the shields already at any rate," Tarna observed, continuing to concentrate on it and trying to break through, clenching her teeth a bit.

"I got a very good look at the weave that the instructor used, and modified it a little," Melaran replied.

The unfamiliar grip of the powers was already draining his energy a bit, but the shields grew a bit stronger despite her continued onslaught. It wouldn't last, he knew, but the practice was indeed good on several levels as it also gave him a hint of the 'flavor' to the power she wielded.

"Good, good..." she told him, bringing forth what she could to bear on it. "Nnngh..."

"Once you feel more confident," Melaran replied quietly, concentrating on maintaining and strengthening the weaves with considerable success, "Then we'll try three, a good test for the real thing."

The underlying concepts of the shields were beginning to make sense, not simply a matter of copying the work of another and instead refining the idea a bit more. He did have an interest in this skill in particular.

"Yeah..." Tarna mulled. "Are you sure you're not inborn to Security?" she smirked a little, still continuing slashing at the shields.

"It _is_ an ability common to the Farseers of the Eldar," Melaran replied. "So perhaps that inclination does exist... or perhaps just having a motive for learning and adapting it."

He chuckled softly. The shields maintained their integrity yet again, but he was definitely beginning to feel the strain of it without the long years spent building the metaphysical muscle for the task. Tarna didn't seem tired at all. Perhaps she was not putting everything into it, or was simply more used to extended channeling.

"I'm not much of a Seeker or I'd scan your aura and tell you for myself... never was particularly good at aura reading, it all blurs together to me..."

"While I enjoy the ability to see the auras of others," Melaran replied musingly, "Beyond the real and practical advantage it can give you, there's just something subtly beautiful about being able to see a part of someone's soul."

He winced as she dug deep into the shields, scrabbling to reinforce and replace some semblance of the depth he'd gained in the meantime.

"Yeah, a pity that my soul vision is a bit myopic," she said lightly, trying to make what she could of her momentary advantage.

"Ah, ah, ah," Melaran chided playfully, spinning the weave tighter about the fragile drone as her very concentration seemed to work against her purpose and skittered across the smooth surface. "Not quite so simple as that, my heart."

He chuckled softly, turning another concept in his mind this way and that, then altering the shields minutely to better 'deflect' much as Eldar armor was designed to do.

"Mmmph," Tarna grunted in frustration momentarily. "I'll manage it yet..."

As though to mock him for his own gentle mockery, the shields collapsed utterly before her latest onslaught to destroy the fragile drone, Melaran winced as a faint spike of pain echoes in his head.

"Perhaps I was too quick to speak," he tepped, smiling warmly. "And well done indeed. Excellent practice for both of us, in differing capacities."

Tarna grinned broadly. "Very much so, yes," she agreed. "You okay?"

"Of course." Melaran nodded, then grinned wryly. "I don't have quite the level of skill that you've developed over the years, so it's probably going to be a while before I can do a lot without tiring myself out a bit. All part of the process, though, I suppose."

"Yeah... I remember the strength training classes in Torn Elkandu tended to involve 'channel until you pass out. Then when you regain consciousness, start channeling again.' But steadily, steadily. They stressed that it was training for a marathon, not a sprint."

"I don't think I'll be going _that_ far," Melaran replied with a smirk. "At least not as long as we're inside this crazy world. Being a little tired I can live with, passed out I might _not_ live with. Not to mention endangering you in the process." He shook his head, collecting the bits of drone for disposal. "Nope, I'll work on a little lower-key approach than that, with the lady's gracious help one might hope."

Tarna chuckled softly. "Naturally. I think I'm ready to try three at once, myself."

"Then by all means," Melaran responded, gathering the spares and holding them up for display. "I did make allowances for a few extras along the way."

He chuckled, setting them into approximately the same positions as the conduits, then began building shields around them. Not one at a time, instead working to weave the skein between the three to reinforce the pattern.

"Ready when you are..." he tepped.

Tarna took a deep breath and relaxes a bit, and concentrated on conjuring three force daggers with which to attack each separate target, and proceeded. Her initial attacks pressed the defense much harder this time from the onset, and Melaran had to scramble to keep them from crumbling entirely before the onslaught.

"Very good!" he offered in honest praise, the strain of the exercise clear in the distracted note.

Tarna grinned, keeping focus on what she was doing, the effort of multitasking taking enough of her concentration to not try to respond much at the moment. Melaran continued to lose ground as she attacked again, the idea of creating an interlocking weave to cover multiple targets distracting some part of his thoughts. Take the possibility to its conclusion, and their survival would be a much simpler thing to ascertain as he grew more familiar with it.

"Keep at it, you can do it," Tarna tepped reassuringly as she stabbed every which way at the shields.

Melaran smiled wanly at the reassurance, the effort of sustaining the weave far more demanding than he initially anticipated and he realized even as it collapsed before her attack that there was a vital element that he'd forgotten. "Symmetry," he tepped, paying no heed as the drones swayed beneath her attack, though even their thin shells resisted the energies she directed at them.

Tarna swayed for a moment under the concentration involved, cleared her mind of everything but the objective, and struck again. The shields re-emerged, the first tendrils of energy coalescing into a faintly discernible pattern in Melaran's eye. Well that her own continued attack was likely affected by weariness, he mused, or they wouldn't have had the chance to progress even that far. Tarna was silent, her eyes sliding shut for a moment as she continued to try to concentrate on the task at hand.

Melaran's focus shifted wholly to the warp and weave of the power between the drones, a faint smile touching his lips as he began to feel what he'd been thinking of. Maintaining the same flow of energy to all points allowed for a greater overall strength with a lesser drain on his own resources. The shields flared brighter, strengthening substantially as power flowed, her assault flickering aside with little apparent effect.

Tarna was clearly having difficulty continuing with the assault, perhaps the strength of the shields more than the extended exertion really. But she concentrated and poked at it and kept it up as well as she could.

The shields dimmed faintly as the assault continued, though Melaran was grateful that her own attacks seemed less than her best at the moment.

"Growing tired?" he tepped lightly, gentle concern edging his tone, "Always another day..."

He did not, however, relinquish his grasp on the threads of the weave, muttering lightly as he continued to try and reinforce them. Tarna's weaves dissolved as she collapsed to her knees, clutching her swimming head dizzily.

"Unnghh..."

"Tarna?" Melaran tepped concernedly, the weave of the shields drifting away on the winds as his attention turns wholly elsewhere. He crossed to her quickly, flicking one of the drones out of his way, and settled to one knee beside her to steady her with gentle hands. "Are you alright?"

"Too much..." she thought thickly. "Need rest. Way more than I'm used to..."

"Indeed," Melaran tepped soothingly, then gathered her near. "Not perhaps to fly, save to your rest." He chuckled softly and stands, sweeping her with him. "No arguments," he chided with mock severity. "I remember well what a wreck you were after the Warp Storm, you definitely need rest more than stubborn self-reliance now."

Tarna didn't seem in particularly much condition to argue regardless, letting him take her back to the ship without complaint.

"Definitely not yourself when you don't even argue," Melaran tepped fondly, leaving the sensor drones where they were to augment the onboard array as they were intended. "To sleep," he continued.

He ducked through the portal to their odd little pocket dimension, helped her out of her armor, and got her into bed. He arranged pillows and covered with tender care, caressing her brow lightly at last.

"Rest well, dear one."


	7. Large Ham

The intervening span of days had been peaceful enough, once Tarna had recovered from the strain of the first day's exercises. All that had passed of note beyond their routine of practice was the apparent curiosity of the native 'wildlife'. While she had slept, Melaran kept watch and observed as the shark-like creature they had observed earlier emerged from the ocean and explored the island they'd landed on.

A drone had drawn its attention, and the creature had studied it in still silence for more than an hour before looking further afield and finding the others as well. Melaran had felt no real cause for alarm as the creature's path had led it nowhere near the ship, a fact carefully monitored through the remote sensors of the drones. Perhaps an hour before dawn the being returned to the waves.

The event had replayed itself each night thereafter, though small differences showed that it was different ones who had emerged to see what new thing had entered their environment. Only the one the night before had been of any real moment and near cause for alarm as a _much_ larger, and seemingly different species, creature had risen from the sea to not only inspect the drones but the ship itself.

A fine enough location, aside from the interruptions, but there remained other things on Tarna's mind to draw them away from here for the moment. "We should go to inspect that other area. See if anything doesn't shoot at us there too."

"The ship's in fine shape again," Melaran replied. "We'll just take it a bit more carefully this time around and keep an eye out for another one of those monster tanks."

That was one experience that he wouldn't care to repeat any time in the near future, he mused as he collected the drones and returned them to storage.

"Indeed," Tarna agreed wholeheartedly. "And be ready to get the hell out of there fast if anything goes wrong..."

"As always," Melaran agreed with a chuckle, settling into a control seat and bringing all systems fully online. "With any luck," he added, "There won't be anything else _quite_ that nasty out there. I can't imagine there could be too many of those around for a zoo."

"I should certainly hope not. Even considering the dangerous nature of a number of the species that inhabit the place..." She took her seat and settled in for takeoff.

"Still seems strange to collect all those dangerous species," Melaran replied, the ship rising from its rest with a smooth hum of power and curving into the sky. "I know some people clearly enjoy the 'thrill' of coming face to face with something like that, but still."

He shook his head, sure he'd never understand that particular aspect of the human mind.

"In some cases, because they think they're doing the universe a favor in preserving them. In another, because they can."

"Wonder which was which, here?" Melaran asked rhetorically, though he rather hoped they'd find an answer to that one somewhere along the way. "Oh well," he continued, "At least the island area we came out of was interesting in another way, even with all the species that were listed there weren't any subdivisions. I guess the underwater types get along better than us air-breathers."

"You wouldn't think so, if you'd ever met the Palistelli of Lezaria," Tarna commented. "I imagine they just quietly eat one another under the surface."

"Maybe they just set up territories depending on relative strength or something." Melaran shrugged. "Either way, doesn't look like this 'Founder' cared too much about what went on there. Probably best for them, in the long run."

Their course vectored well around the dark sphere of the inner planet in passing, as he had no inclination to get shot at from _that_ direction either just now. Tarna would tend to prefer to avoid getting shot at by anything too big to fight back against at the moment.

"So presuming the place we visited before was the military place or whatever, what do you suppose the place we're going to is?"

"Considering what the node told us," Melaran replied, shifting course for a high altitude overpass of the zone with sensors scanning. "Or rather _wasn't_ telling us, as you so elegantly noted, I'd rather suspect that we're going to find the races that the Founder or the military didn't want found. Maybe they were still working out some sort of deal on including it in their 'tour'."

"Hmm. Either way, this should prove an interesting exercise..." Tarna leaned back for a moment and watched the landscape far below them -- and above and beside, technically.

"Well, one thing's for certain," Melaran said, studying the sensor returns. "Lot of tech down there. Looks like it's split into nine squares, each containing a different species and none of em appear to be stone age by the power readings."

"If nothing starts shooting at us, we should come in low over the area and see about getting some decent readings, see if we can figure out just what is here..."

"Working on it," Melaran replied absently, descending nearer to give the sensors an even better penetration rate. "Looks like there's some heavy duty defensive emplacements in each sector, but none of them are even sniffing at us. Odd. Wide array of climates involved, too, ranging from mountains to deserts, and everything in between."

"Interesting," Tarna mused thoughtfully, peering out at it all. "But is there any indication of just who or what might be here?"

"Various species in the different quadrants," Melaran replied. "Forested area seems to be canids of some sort, desert looks like... spiders?" He shook his head and continued, "Swamps look like some kind of snake creature, rat-types in another. I'm not seeing anything that would come close to human or Eldar norm, but..." Frowning, he studied the readouts more carefully. "The central quadrant seems to be shielded even further, interfering with any detailed scans."

"Then that's what we'll need to discover," Tarna observed. "Carefully, in case there are defenses that might take offense at our presence..."

"Ever carefully," Melaran agreed.

He shifted their course to descend toward the central quadrant. The point where the shielding covers was passed without incident, and he chuckled quietly as the sensors were able to refine their data of the sector that was comprised of jagged mountains and rolling plains.

"Looks like our kin was a bit more trouble," he said lightly. "I'm getting definite signs of Eldar-similar life-signs."

Tarna peered over in interest, having suspected that they might find them here, and grinned faintly. "Defenses?"

"Like you would not believe," Melaran replied, frowning. "Weird that they're not looking at us at all, with the power reading coming from the underground network I'm picking up, you'd think they'd blast anything that came their way just on principle." He shook his head, studying the details of the continuing scans. "Looks like there's a central complex, a castle of some sort maybe, pretty inaccessible location."

"Hmm. Interesting. Shall we head down and say hi then?"

"Surely," Melaran replied. "Though it looks like we're going to have to land nearer the base of the mountain range, nowhere nearer to set down and there looks to be a road leading up there that shouldn't take too much... what the...?" he muttered.

Melaran checked the scans near the base of the road he'd mentioned and finding what looked a lot like a giant squiggoth that's currently engaged with a small number of beings.

Tarna stared out at the thing and said, "What the hell is _that_?"

"Closest I could call it would be a squiggoth," Melaran replied, delving through the ship's database and shifting the information that rises over to her. "Not quite the same, but damn close. I'm sure someone would leap right out and lend a hand, me I'm more inclined to add a little more direct and less hazardous aid."

The ship winged over, its course shifting to come to bear on the creature as weapons come online.

"Well, whatever it is, I don't think offering it tea and cookies would help overmuch. Let's make some bacon."

The ship was equipped with a pleasing array of mayhem-inducing weapon systems, ranging from distort cannons and pulsars on the direct-fire side to a hyper-velocity missile turret on the underside. Bob, it would seem, was a very practical being when it came to things of that nature. Tarna wasn't much disappointed at the prospects. She eagerly went to take control of the weapons systems and attack once they were in range.

Energy lances out from the ship, but the titanic creature seemed to evade the beams with contemptuous ease... not an unimpressive prospect considering its size. Melaran banked the ship to bring them around for another pass. Tarna muttered in annoyance as she failed to strike home. She was hardly the best gunner ever, of course, but she'd like to think herself at least reasonably competent. Stubbornly she set herself to try again.

Their second pass was much more satisfactory, the unfamiliar weapon systems clicking into place in Tarna's mind as she opened fire again. The searing rays of the pulsars slashed out to draw deep furrows in the creature's sides, the shorter-ranged D-cannon fire that followed engulfing it in a sight-bending ripple that causes untold havoc on it. Those who were combating it look to be stunned as the creature thundered to the ground.

"Ah, much better," Tarna said. "Shall we go say hi to them now? I imagine they'll be fairly surprised at our precipitous appearance..."

"Without doubt," Melaran replied, shifting back into the now-easy mental communication.

He dismissed the cloaking field around the ship and moved to bring them to a landing nearby. The warriors they aided regathered their wits, looking toward the ship with curiosity that was clear even beneath the glittering carapaces of their sleek armor... armor which bore considerable resemblance to Tarna and Melaran's own in basic design philosophy. Once they'd landed, Tarna climbed out and waved over toward them in a friendly manner. She went to approach them, barely waiting for Melaran.

Melaran followed quietly after, though not without checking the readiness of his weapons first as even in his own home had the Eldar been known to fight amongst themselves now and again. Those who approached, however, seemed of no immediate hostile intent and removed their open-faced helms as Tarna drew near.

"Hail and well met!" called one of them, his armor more ornate than the others, perhaps as a sign of rank.

Their appearance was very similar to the Eldar, though they were of slightly stockier build and seemed more muscular as a whole as well as darker of hair and complexion. The leader's greeting, it should be noted, came in standard English. Tarna took that as a matter of course. She was used to random people on other planets entirely unrelated to Earth speaking English for no apparent reason.

"And a greeting to you as well," Tarna said brightly. "I say, just what _was_ that creature we took down?"

The stranger looked at her for a moment, then to the ship they'd attacked with in keen interest before returning to her question.

"A most fell beast indeed, m'lady," he replied. "Their kind are known to rampage the countryside wide in search of prey, oft-times trampling the unwary beneath its mighty feet. We call them simply hellbeasts, for that alone is what may have spawned them... and it would appear its death is owed you."

Tarna grinned faintly to herself and gave a bow. "Glad to have been of assistance."

"More than assistance," he replied, offering a bow of his own in reply. "I am Thorad, baron of these lands, and an honor indeed would I consider it should you accept my hospitality and a feast in praise. My companions may see to the beast's remains, though any trophy you may wish is assuredly yours to command."

Tarna gratefully accepted the hospitality and the feast, but declined any trophy.

"You heard the lady, lads," Thorad turned, gesturing to his companions. "See to it and get some of those lazy bastards out here to butcher the carcass. Don't be too long about it, or you'll miss out on the feast!" He laughed, replying easily to a few good-natured insults before returning to her and smiling. "Follow me, then."

Tarna chuckled softly and trotted along after him, and tepped to Melaran, "You know, I can't say I've had as much experience with Eldar in general as you have, but I would be fair inclined to say there seems to something a bit different about these folks."

"So would I," Melaran tepped thoughtfully in reply. "Not least of which is no hint of Power in them at all. That just doesn't seem to ring true with what we've already seen, these guys seem like blanks..."

Their host led them off up along the road at a quick lope, those he'd left behind setting to work on the creature beside a newly arrived group in concealing robes.

"But they seem friendly enough regardless," Tarna commented. "Perhaps that ability was somehow blocked off from them when they were imprisoned here?"

"Maybe," Melaran allowed. "Or maybe they're hiding it, dunno. Guess we'll see."

He didn't sound wholly convinced, but the quick ascent to the mountainside citadel didn't leave much time for deep contemplation. Elegantly sculpted walls rose from the ground, an archway at their center beckoning them within as the heavy-set doors were thrown wide open to the beauty of the spring-like day.

A small city was built within, delicate crystalline buildings seemingly spun from the ether serving a multitude of purposes and framing the meticulously cared for garden areas scattered throughout. At the center was an impressive construct of much sturdier, though no less beautiful, design with a faint shimmer surrounding it indicating perhaps a force shield.

Tarna gave the area a good look-over, appreciating the construction and giving a moment's more look toward the central construct. She continued to follow after their host. Lively examples of the populace could be seen all over the place, the weather clearly suiting them well and bringing out a bright gaiety that manifested itself in cheerful calls to their host which he readily replied to in like fashion.

The single jarring note to the festive air were the occasional robed figures which could be seen flitting ghost-like through the throngs on one task or another. They were notably taller than those around them, and inevitably sneered or rebuffed when they passed in the path of any of the other inhabitants. The view was soon lost, however, as they entered the heart of the keep itself and the sleek marble walls of its construction enfolded them. Elegant tapestries and sculptures were placed in aesthetically pleasing array, giving a warmer feel to the setting than might otherwise be present.

Their path ended inevitably near the center of the structure at a grand chamber which likely served as combination throne room, dining area, and meeting hall, a resilient path of carpet leading to a dais with a gorgeous throne set upon it. Thorad crossed to it and sat down, gesturing the newcomers closer.

"Come! Tell me what brings you to my halls. Long has it been since last we gave host to visitors."

"I would imagine so, considering the circumstances," Tarna observed dryly. "It was not especially easy to find you here."

"So, I would suspect," Thorad agreed easily, pressing a button set into the arm of the throne. "Long agone the days when we traveled amongst the stars, yet this life is not such a terrible one. Quite restful comparatively, in sooth."

A robed figure entered from a side door, bearing a tray with several glasses and a bottle which it brought to Thorad and set quietly next to his throne before moving to depart in silence.

"I must say that it was likely chance or perhaps the hand of a fickle deity which brought us to this part of space," Tarna said. "We are, as you likely could guess, not from around here."

"Again as I would suspect," Thorad nodded, opening the bottle and pouring liberal amounts of a deep red wine into each of the three glasses which had been delivered. "Your armor alone marks you as strangers, saying nothing of the ship which you arrived astride. I would gather some common ancestry, from similarities in design, yet many differences remain. Please." He gestured to the glass. "Drink and be merry."

With deliberate formality, he raised his own glass for their inspection and took a deep drink from it. Tarna took her glass and glanced it over absently before taking a drink. Melaran took a glass as well, but didn't appear greatly interested in it as his attention seemed distracted in the direction their brief visitor had departed. The wine was richly aromatic and faintly sweet, bearing little of the bitterness that its unrefined cousins were known for, but the underlying hint of alcohol was _quite_ potent. Thorad drained his glass and poured another, looking at his guests curiously.

"Beyond the hunt of the great hellbeast, and perhaps its kin," he said, "What might you seek in these lands? I would gladly assign one to act as your guide if you wish, and sport may be provided to entertain."

"Curiosity, in part," Tarna explained. "We had learned that there were those of similar ancestry to us within this sphere, and gleaned a number of unanswered questions with regards to its origin and what may have befallen the universe outside."

"Ah," Thorad replied, his attention quirking aside as Melaran removed his helm and took a light sip of the wine, the approving expression at it drawing a pleased smile from their host as he turned his attention wholly back to Tarna. "A tragic story indeed. Long ago did we rule the very heavens, far as the mind might conceive... but in arrogance was our doom unfolded. We struck at the fledgling humans, seeking to eradicate them before they might rise to be a threat..." he shrugged and took a thoughtful sip, "It was ill-conceived, as they had developed far more in their distant enclaves than we had suspected. Their vengeance was terrible indeed, driving us from ancient halls until we few remained."

"Humans are often full of surprises," Tarna commented. "And in my experience it is often a mistake to seek war before attempting peace. So many tragedies in many worlds in many universes might have been averted had such been so."

"Well-spoken and truly said," Thorad agreed approvingly. "Would that all those who had sought the council of war before diplomacy and reason had been so wise. Ah well," he shrugs, "At the last were the humans merciful, fortunately, else nothing would yet remain of a once mighty empire. Better in the long vier, perhaps."

"What do you know of what has happened in this place since the construction of this sphere?"

"Little enough, I fear," Thorad replied. "For a time did the one who brought it into being come to speak with us, along with officers of their military arm, but those days are long past and we've heard nothing regarding events in the greater world beyond since."

"From what information we have managed to glean from the systems here, it appears to have been abandoned and left running on automatic since not long after its creation... Curious."

"Indeed?" Thorad replied, expression rising in surprise. "What would persuade the humans to leave such a potentially unstable experiment without oversight? Have you found nothing which might lend reason to this? No hint of any such dire event has emerged here, which is surprising as we are surrounded on all sides by those who might seek to bring us harm."

Tarna shook her head. "No clue as to why. We encountered a species of telepathic feline creatures who said that they had been friends of yours..."

Thorad looked perplexed at that and 'hmmed' thoughtfully, then shook his head, "None leaps immediately to mind which might fit such a description among our former allies, though perhaps those among us who are of more scholarly bent may find some record or recognition in it. I will ask the court scrivener regarding it and seek to preparations for the night's revelries." He depressed the summoning control again as he continued, "For now, you have journeyed far and would doubtless be glad of the opportunity to refresh yourselves before then. I would also make available the services of a tailor, should you require it."

Tarna wondered why that would be necessary, and raised a mental eyebrow to Melaran over the comment. "Thank you, it's appreciated," Tarna said politely, regardless of confusion.

Melaran was equally confused by the conversation as a whole, what they'd already seen hardly suggesting the almost kind-seeming and righteous humans that Thorad described. He kept it to himself, though, other than a faint hint of doubt that he conveyed to Tarna as one of the shrouded servants appear to guide them. The being bowed silently to them and turns, apparently content in the knowledge that it would be followed.

Looking at it thoughtfully, Melaran did indeed follow, the path leading upward along a sweeping staircase to a floor several levels above. They were led to a delicately etched door which their guide opened and motioned for them to enter.

"Now why would the masters be a blank," he tepped to Tarna, "When the servants glow as brightly as the summer sun?"

Tarna's mental eyebrows just about creeped off the top of her head at that. "You're better at aura reading than me... and I'd say something is definitely odd here... But even mensch have auras, and even people whose powers are suppressed as well. Androids, maybe?"

Offering a formal bow to the servitor, Melaran then entered the room and began pacing thoughtfully.

"Perhaps," he replied, "though what I saw of the 'servant' read as clearly as I might have hoped to see in a Farseer. Nearly the same, in fact, if not stronger and more varied in what was present. I think things are definitely not as they appear here."

"Perhaps the real ones we seek here are kept in a state of servitude as punishment or something..." Tarna conjectured wildly.

"Or as some sort of sick joke," Melaran replied. "Something like that would definitely seem to be in line with what we've already seen regarding the ones who made this place." He shook his head and moved to look out the full-length window that leads out onto a balcony. "Whatever else, I think we'd better be damned careful here."


	8. Strange Elves

The room that Tarna and Melaran had been given was luxuriously appointed in a style not only reminiscent but stealing whole-cloth from the Elizabethan era. Even the bedclothes were done in patterns 'borrowed' from the period, and the solid oak construction carved and burnished to a quality that an antique collector would drool over.

"Perhaps trying to contact one of them telepathically... hmm..." Tarna mused thoughtfully.

"Possible, I suppose," Melaran replied. "But would they be any more likely to answer than report us to their masters? We don't know enough about what's going on here yet to even guess."

The idea that spirits as free and fierce as the Eldar or their kin could be so degraded and chained was a deeply repulsive and disturbing thought, and Tarna could catch echoes of it in his mental voice.

Tarna dislikes the idea of unwilling servitude in general, and replies, "You may be right. We must be cautious, and gather what information we can about the situation. Keep your eyes peeled."

"No doubt," Melaran agreed, looking toward the door and then to her as a light knock sounded.

Tarna shrugs faintly and went to the door to open it and see who it was and what they wanted. A robed servitor waited without, holding a strange device. It bowed to her in silence and made a querying gesture that it might enter.

"Oh, yeah, come on in," Tarna said, gesturing vaguely inside curiously.

The being walked with solemn grace within and placed the device on the ground. It was perhaps two feet long on each side and a few inches thick, made of a translucent crystal that displayed intricate designs deep inside that flickered with power. The servitor touched a stud at one corner, then moved toward the door and offered a bow to them as a holographic projection appeared above the device.

Tarna was fairly well confused about the entire situation, raising an eyebrow and peering at the thing, wondering what was going on. The servitor departed without further word, silently, while the Eldar-appearing hologram 'looked' at them.

"Please step on the control surface," it said, "Clothing options appropriate to the event which I have been pre-programmed for will be displayed and presented for your approval. Once a choice is made, merely say so and it will be produced."

Tarna blinked for a moment and said, "Er... okay..." Clothing and parties were the last thing on her mind given the circumstances!

Melaran looked at the device with some amusement, then at her with a grin and shrugged. "Guess this is the tailor he mentioned something about."

"I... don't think this will be necessary," Tarna said tentatively.

"As you wish," it said, then returned to standby as the hologram vanished.

Melaran just looked at the device thoughtfully. "Dunno, there may be something to be found when they're at their ease and off their guard at a party thrown for newcomers. Up to you, though, not really my thing," he finished quietly, looking at her with a quirked grin.

"I rather prefer what I'm already wearing," Tarna replied tensely. "Something's not right here..."

Melaran walked over to her and rested his hands lightly on her armored shoulders. "We already knew that," he tepped gently. "We'll figure it out, even if it means burning this place down to the ground to do it. Offhand though, I'm not sure where to start looking other than at the side of our 'gracious host'."

Tarna paced anxiously. "This is puzzling. What, precisely, did you see around them? Nothing at all?"

"Nothing," Melaran confirmed. "And I'm pretty sure that's accurate and normal for them as it's the same I saw around any of them that I looked at along the way."

"The only way an Elkandu can appear without an aura is with strong Illusion magic, and they so rarely mask it completely since it's completely unnatural for a living being. I should try to read the mind of one of them. That would confirm fairly quickly whether or not..."

"Carefully tread, Tarna," Melaran cautioned lightly. "That might alert them that something is suspected, and if they're skilled enough to mask what's there that might not be the wisest of ideas, or..." he mused thoughtfully, 'some _thing_ may do so for them. That would explain the... almost _shadow_ I saw attached to the aura of that servant."

"A... shadow? How do you mean?" Tarna wondered, raising an eyebrow.

He'd seen it so crisply, so clearly, that it was difficult to describe all that had been revealed. "There was an 'echo' laying just beneath the surface, colder and more distant than the vibrant flickering of Power... almost as though separating it from the flesh."

"Send me the image," Tarna prompted. "Mental communication need not be restricted to verbal, of course."

Melaran chuckles softly, sharing the image as he does did. "This I know."

It was pretty much as he described it, a shadowy echo laying just beneath the normal envelope of the aura but seeming to separate it from touching the body beneath at any point. As he surmised, it was probably a shield of some sort that keeps them from using any of the powers inherent to them.

Tarna frowned a bit, trying to bring to mind memory of Elkandu enchantments and terminology. "A soul buffer?" Tarna took a stab at it. "It would take strong Soul or Catalysm to completely cut someone off from their powers..."

Melaran shook his head faintly, delving into the memory. "That term isn't familiar to me, but there's ways that a Farseer could do something like that. The problem is that I doubt they'd do it to themselves and that it'd hold for so long without breaking down, so... what's maintaining it?"

"Elkandu can set weaves to be tied off and maintain themselves, it's called 'enchantment'. But it takes quite a lot to make an enchantment stick for a long period of time, especially on a living being who may not be willing. Not to mention the skill and power level required..."

"Something more artificial would be my guess," Melaran replied. "We've already seen some of the computers that the Elorai'isin used, and I can tell you that they have similar enough structure to do something like this. Maybe. I don't know for sure, but it just doesn't 'feel' the same as any weave I've seen done by a living being. It's too... perfect and precise."

"Weaves done by machines," Tarna concluded. "I've seen it done before. Suzcecoz had built machines that could do magic."

"The question being where the machine is that did it and how to get it undone," Melaran replied. "If it can be undone at all, and if we could get to it with the supposed 'masters' running around keeping an eye on things."

"I still think they must be androids. No living being lacks an aura. Machines and more machines!"

"Unless the machine disguises it," Melaran countered, then shrugged. "Though why it would do it is a mystery to me. It would seem more likely to bring suspicion than anything else..." he paused thoughtfully, then added, "Unless that's the point."

"Regardless, they aren't what they appear to be... Oh, this is madness. What are we to do?"

"If we're going to find anything out," Melaran replied, "then we're going to have to play along. That or burn the whole damned place to the ground, and I doubt that the defense systems are going to allow _that_ without saying something."

"Or find a computer terminal and hack into the system by exploiting a backdoor with a Trojan horse..."

"Considering what we've seen so far," Melaran replied. "I have no clue where we'd find something like that, other than it probably being right under our noses someplace. Definitely haven't seen anything that would lead us to it so far."

Tarna stopped pacing for a moment and rubbed her head. "We'll figure out some way."

"Of course," Melaran replied soothingly. "It's not like we have to worry about what they're going to do to us, we're their 'honored guests'. I'd only worry about turning our backs or taking a nap when they're around."

"Yeah, you did make sure to lock the ship and didn't leave the keys in the ignition, right?"

Melaran chuckled softly. "You didn't see me leaping out without checking my weapons first, did you?" That thought drained away amusement as he looked down at his arms and armor. "Hmm, speaking of, probably a good idea to watch what we eat or drink, not to mention not letting any of this out of our sight."

"Good point. Although it would look mighty silly to go to a feast and not eat anything!"

"No need of that," Melaran replied. "I can make a short jaunt back to the ship and pick up a portable scanner, set it to detect anything which might prove unpleasant to our physiology. Good idea for no other reason than avoiding potential poisoning by something that harmless to natives."

"Or you could just use Seeking for the same purpose... Well, I don't suppose you've learned the Detect Poison spell yet, so yeah, probably a good idea."

"Err.." Melaran replied, looking faintly chagrined. "Hadn't even thought of something like that, honestly. But hey," he shifted, grinning, "this way I also don't have to pay attention to checking each dish, right?"

Tarna chuckled mentally. "You're making progress, but you've a lot to learn yet. But plenty of time for that, eh? It's not like I'm a great Seeker myself."

"Hmph," Melaran replied with feigned grumpiness. "At least you're from a screwball place that focused on something other than the applications of Power toward the battlefield. Poison? C'mon! Who's going to poison a Farseer? Heh. Anyway..." He closed his eyes, focusing on her with other senses as he tepped. "Let's get you setup with some shields before I head out for that, taking no chances here."

Tarna grinned as he did so and tepped, "Whenever we should get back, should take some more classes while we're there. I can't teach you everything, I only really know about Mind, Dream, and Motion."

The shields settled smoothly into place, their strength sufficient that Melaran was even reasonably satisfied with them and wasn't immediately tempted to poke and add additional layers.

"I will," he replied with a smile. "Right now I'm more intent on working through the basics and figuring out what this all means and why I should bother. That's pretty much a moot point, really." Chuckling, he stepped to open the doors out to the balcony.

Tarna tepped, "Yeah... One technique the Elkandu have been known to use is a direct mental transfer of the weaves. It's not enough to instantly become good at something, but it gives a good basis upon which experience and practice can build. Even if you know the theoretical hows of doing something, it takes actually doing it to get the pathways in the mind down to be able to call upon it easily.."

"Alright, alright, I promise I'll go," Melaran laughed mentally, fond exasperation tinging the reply. "Hold that thought, though, shouldn't be more than a few minutes.'

He stepped out on the balcony, the faint thrum of his wings sounding as he vanished from sight with a leap. Tarna stood out on the balcony and waited for his return, grinning faintly to herself.

A few minutes passed, becoming five, then ten, and finally a half hour without any sign of Melaran's return or clear hint of anything gone amiss. Tarna frowned a bit, and started to grow worried. She headed back inside and let her consciousness fade into a sort of daydream and tried to dream-seek over the area where the ship should have been to see if she could locate him.

She found seeking through the dreamworld to be _very_ difficult, and the very vitality seemed to be leeched out of it somehow, but she did manage to do so with some effort. The ship was indeed where it was left, and nothing seems immediately out of place around it until she noticed a few charred marks to one side. A faint sound intruded on her concentration from the direction of the balcony...

Tarna snapped back to reality and glances around, growing increasingly worried about what might be amiss with the situation. Melaran entered quickly and quietly, his expression masked beneath his helm. Noticeably different, though, was a charred patch of armor on his right side. 

"Definitely have to keep an eye on things," he tepped grimly.

"What happened?" Tarna asked worriedly, going to hug him compulsively as she saw he was alright for the most part.

Melaran returns the hug, though he flinches momentarily. "There were a couple of our host's friends poking around outside the ship, they were a little surprised and trigger happy to see me arriving," he tepped. "Be interesting to see if Thorad mentions anything about them going missing, since I fed the remains to the recycler onboard."

"Oh dear," Tarna replied. "I was worried something had happened when you didn't come back right away..."

"Nothing to worry about," Melaran replied lightly. "Though the weapons they carry around are pretty damned nasty. Something to watch out for as we're looking around." He stepped away and moved over to the bed. "I'd better patch this up, or it's going to look a little out of place.'

He began to strip out of his armor, paying as little attention as possible to the scorched skinsuit as he sat and went to work on the repair.

"You'll be okay I hope?" Tarna replied. "Maybe I should have gone with you..."

"Yeah, I'm fine,' Melaran replied, smiling lightly. "Nothing I haven't seen and worse, just don't have the time to deal with it right now. Figured I better get back here soonest and make sure they weren't up to anything in my absence."

"It's been quiet here. Too quiet. I hope nothing else goes wrong..."

"I think we're okay for now," Melaran replied absently, focusing somewhat on the soothing energies that caused the wraithbone to grow, a bittersweet taste of home. "If nothing else, those two disappearing will make him think twice about trying something else until he's sure of what just happened and how to overpower it. Hopefully we'll be long gone and done by the time that happens."

"None of this makes any sense..." Tarna mulled. "Did you get what you went for at least?"

"Yes I did," Melaran replied with a silent chuckle. "I told you I fed them to the recycler. Picked up a few other things that may come in handy later, too, but we'll have to see how things turn out and what we can find."

"Like what?" she inquired. She thought she's probably got a few things tucked away herself that might be of use should it come to it as well.

"Just a few all-purpose tools that might come in handy," Melaran replied. "I'd really rather not see things blow up on us this time around, there's a _lot_ more of them than there are of us, and I really don't want to take the chance that they've got some more surprises hanging out there."

Having finished with the repairs, he stood and began to don his armor again, if a bit stiffly.

"Well, I'm sure we've been in worse situations... right? right?" Tarna said reassuringly.

"Being in worse doesn't necessarily mean that you can't end up equally dead," Melaran replied, glancing aside with a smirk. "I'm just going to be careful, that's all, no way in hell am I going to let you get put out on a limb if I can help it."

"That goes the same for you too," Tarna replied with a faint grin at him.

Melaran grinned, fastening the last catch and tightening it before walking over to lightly kiss her cheek. "I'd expect no less. Now." He looked around thoughtfully. "Do we wait or see what we can find out on our own? No clue what our host may be hiding and what he may do if we don't play nice, quiet guests."

"I'm not sure he entirely knows what to make of us," Tarna commented. "Looking around a bit shouldn't be too out of line, if we aren't to be assumed prisoners after all."

"Seems reasonable enough to me," Melaran agreed. "Though probably steer away if we start getting any odd looks from the locals or the staff. He _did_ offer us a guide, after all, wouldn't want it being too obvious that we didn't trust the offer."

"We could, of course, take up said guide, and pay attention to what said guide doesn't tell us," she commented.

"That we could." Melaran grinned. "And get an idea of just what parts of the town or the castle they don't want us to see. Personally, if I wanted to be sneaky I'd make everything appear like everything was open, but you never know where they might slip up."

"Mmm, yes, sounds like as good an idea to me. Guided tours ahoy!"

"Let's go downstairs then and see what pops up," Melaran replied with a chuckle, heading for the door.

Tarna headed out after him, gone from worried to cheerful and optimistic again in a heartbeat. "Yes, do let's."

"You are strange," Melaran tepped, "adorable, but strange." Their wandering didn't go far before they encountered one of Thorad's armed retainers casually 'patrolling' the halls nearby, and Melaran restrained a smirk as he tepped, "My, my, maybe not prisoners but certainly not the free pass he seemed willing to offer." Not that he could blame the man, not when dealing with strangers, only the 'wrongness' of the setting nettled.

Tarna sent him a mental smirk but outwardly she made it as though she was quite happy to see them. "Ah, excellent, I was afraid we might get lost here! We were hoping to take our most gracious host up on his offer of a guided tour!"

The Eldar-apparent covered well, stiffening and then offering a formal bow. "But of course. I would be more than happy to act in such a capacity for our guests." That they would be beneath his eyes at all times was a given, that _was_ his duty as chief of security after all.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Tarna said brightly, throwing herself into the role with pizzazz. "Please, lead on then, we are the strangers here, what is there to see and do around here?"

"What might you consider of interest, m'lady?" he asked. "There are a great many things to see and do within the city, from dining and dancing to the quiet paths of the various gardens."

"Oh, I wouldn't know what might stand out here. Show us what you think is interesting!"

"As you wish," he replied, gesturing politely for them to follow him and leading the way back downstairs. "You must forgive us if things appear primitive at times," he said conversationally, "Much has been lost in the long years of our exile, and our resources are not what they might else be to recover wholly from it."

Tarna followed eagerly, looking around at everything with apparent interest. "Oh, that's quite understandable, of course. The place where I was born was on a similar level, perhaps."

"Indeed?" he replied, leading them through streets that were, if not thronging with people then at least healthily populated. Making note of the occasional odd look their appearance gained from the more perceptive surrounding them, he casually asked, "In curiosity, Lord Thorad had said that you were to be provided with appropriate attire for the feast this evening, was this not arranged for?"

The city itself was beautiful, immaculately clean and elegantly crafted, the technology level clearly beyond the normal as passing by one store a replicator could be seen in use. Tarna took a good look over the area, satisfied that her rampant curiosity can justifiably appeared to be natural and expected in this instance.

"No attire could be more appropriate than that which we already bear," Tarna replied smoothly.

"As you wish," he replied sedately. "I am certain Lord Thorad intended it only as a courtesy and not demand, and merely wished to confirm that the opportunity had been presented. The servitors are sometimes less than amenable and dutiful in their tasks."

He shook his head disgustedly, leading them onto a quieter thoroughfare lined by various craft shops from clothier to glasswork.

Tarna noted his response carefully and although she let it slide outwardly, she tepped to Melaran, "Hmm..." She put on a show of attentively looking at the crafts and wares.

"Hmm indeed," Melaran replied, remaining true to the part of silent and watchful guardian.

Their guide, meanwhile, gestured to one window and another. "Anything here is hand crafted, hence the demand is quite high as well as the attendant cost. Quite fetching in some cases, however." 

Two shops next door to each other displayed similarly shiny wares, though one was crafted of finely spun and fanciful glass while the other displayed glittering jewelry of breathtaking quality and ethereal design. Tarna lavished on the compliments but passed up the wares, continuing on attentively.

"They don't really _act_ like any androids I've ever seen, though," she tepped to Melaran.

"The ones I killed seemed alive enough," Melaran replied dryly, his own attention less caught by the shiny or even the garden they were nearing than being alert for any signs of something out of the ordinary.

"Original works are ever the most enduring and sought after," their guide continued. "One reason that the gardens of the city attract so much attention, each being sculpted to try and outdo all others."

"Please, I must see this," Tarna said. "Do lead on." She tepped to Melaran, "Regardless, androids aren't the only artificial constructs, either. You can fashion a golem in the shape of a man and it would appear to be alive, and with the proper spells would even speak and seem to think. Solid illusion can do it as well, a good Illusionist can put up a very convincing image, even to the point of blood and speech."

Their guide seemed quite content to do so, leading them along the shaded paths of the garden with only the occasional comment on design elements and local flora. It really was a lovely place, but some part of the appeal had lost itself on Melaran.

He tepped a reply, "I don't know, but it doesn't look like we're going to find anything out here. Looks like our friendly neighborhood guide knows how to deal with tourists."

Tarna didn't particularly mind the diversion, her interest not wholly feigned, but she did pay careful attention to just what was and wasn't being said. "Or it may be something else entirely, of course."

The tour is bland overall, at least in terms of what was said or not said, their path either very carefully orchestrated or simply having nothing obvious to hide. Melaran wasn't sure of which, even if he did know there was a hell of a lot more than met the eye _somewhere_ around here.

"Wait, wait," he tepped, looking around. "This was the central quadrant, so where the hell's the node?"

"Underground? Invisible?" Tarna conjectured at random, giving a mental shrug as she looked around the area, not overly concerned about the tacit guide. "There's plenty of ways to hide something you don't really want found... the most effective of which being in plain sight."

The guide, relegated to the same role as an automated recording that droned on in the background, continued blandly and seemingly obliviously with their tour.

"I don't think it's in plain sight," Melaran replied. "Not this time, too much at stake to just let anyone near it... especially with the _real_ Elorai'isin running around. Too much chance of something being slipped by and taken advantage of by someone who really knew what to do with it. So... where?"

"Most likely the last place anyone would ever look, probably under careful ward or guard," Tarna replied, making noises at the guide as if to indicate that she was actually paying attention.

"That or the best defended and most difficult to get to," Melaran replied, taking a look around with mild interest as they entered a district filled with eating establishments of various sorts, with varying aromas reaching out to tantalize the passersby. "Hidden _and_ well defended would be my guess, I'm not exactly buying into the history lesson that Thorad handed out."

"Anything regularly used wouldn't be too difficult to get to. Anything not regularly used nobody would mind putting up severe inconveniences for reaching."

"Hmm, yeah," Melaran replied. "If this is anything like the other nodes then there's probably some sort of worship centered around it, or at least a mythos of some sort. Unless they were so bloody paranoid about it that they buried it so far beneath the surface that no one could ever find it... I could see the military doing that. Heh."

Restaurants gave way to clubs of various sorts, from sedate to considerably more wild.

Tarna took in the sights and sounds of the clubs and tepped, "You know, this isn't right... They act and live like real people, but how can real people not have an aura? And yet it's too much to simulate merely for the guise of a prison illusion..."

"I don't know," Melaran replied. "Every single one of them that I've looked at has been the same. The only thing I can figure is that it's one of the weird things you mentioned or..." he paused, mulling that over a bit, "maybe it's another layer of defense? Some of the things I could imagine being capable of might use the aura as a weapon."

"Not to belittle your abilities, of course, but I wish a real Seeker were here, like Azale or Keolah or even Suzcecoz. They could see past this trickery and cut to the truth."

"Maybe," Melaran replied. "What I saw about that 'servant' really makes me think that something really powerful is behind this, and with the control and precision to keep it hidden except as anything more than a shadow. Truth doesn't always come with power." The last had a faintly bitter note to it.

"It does when you have the skill to go along with it. Suzcecoz's Seeking was not her primary talent, but she had worked it up to be so precise that she could see individual molecules... And for none of them would normal wards stop their ability. But, it takes a lot of practice, training and experience to get that good..."

"Think of it this way, my lady," Melaran replied. "You have something that has not only been in existence for at least ten thousand years, if not longer, but it has had next to nothing to do other than watch over its charges and make sure that what it's doing will _never_ fail. Something which may or may not have a mind moving at speeds and at levels beyond our own. I don't think I'd want to see what it _might_ be able to do."

"You have a point there," Tarna replied. "But still, there must be some way."

She continued on, looking at what they're being shown and feigning rapt interest. The clubs gave way to the main thoroughfare once more, and their guide turned to them with polite interest, "Is there anything else which it would please you to see? Already have I displayed the areas most likely to be of interest."

Looking back on it, he's probably guided them across the better part of town, leaving out only distinctly residential areas.

"No, I believe that will be more than sufficient for the moment," Tarna replied. "My thanks and gratitude for your hospitality and accommodation."

"It is my pleasure to serve," he replied smoothly, gesturing back in the direction of the central keep. "I will of course escort you back to your chambers, Lord Thorad would be most vexed were I to misplace our honored guests."

Tarna let him escort them back to their rooms, still puzzling over the situation in her mind all the way.


	9. Breaking Chains

Having been returned to their guest room, Melaran and Tarna were left to their own devices for a time with a courteous reminder that they need only ask if anything was required or desired. It was a peaceful, if dull, interlude but interrupted at last by a light knock at their door. Tarna went to answer the door, hoping that this did not involve people shooting at them or holographic tailors or anything this time.

A robed servitor waited outside, calm and serene even as she broke long habit and spoke softly, "May I enter?"

Tarna gestured vaguely into the room and said, "By all means."

The servitor drew back her hood as she entered, her features much more what they might have expected in kin of their blood with paler, less coarse delineation than their erstwhile hosts. A dull metallic circlet curved around her skull, a single crystalline ornament glittering faintly at the center of her brow.

"You have come in times perilous and fortuitous," she said. "Which finds you shall needless be decided by your actions."

Tarna looked at her, blinking for a moment as she suddenly remembered something. She tepped to Melaran, "That device that was used on me back at ... wherever that was? Oh yeah, the Elkandu also used an item that prevent channeling, demonsteel handcuffs. I don't know how those worked either, I didn't really care to find out." Tarna raised an eyebrow at her as she listened, somewhat confused.

"That would explain much," Melaran replied mentally, studying the woman as he paid polite attention. "How they did it and where they found out how to do it are another matter entirely though."

He fell silent as the woman looked at them for a moment, a ghost of a smile curling her lips as she nodded once. "Indeed you see to the heart of it," she said, "We who once strode the stars are now constrained and confined, a pale shadow of former glory."

"Time has passed, bringing a dimming of the sun which was once the Elorai'isin, and now are we merely the Elorai... the Enduring. Those which you have already seen are crude mockeries and manipulations of the deranged mind which set us in this place, the Chazat having long since forgotten this world as their own natures consumed them."

"What happened to them?" Tarna wondered. "And what are these others here?"

The veneer of civility was twisted into a mask of iron-controlled rage as she replied nearly in a hiss, "They were weak and succumbed to the very nature which we accepted, which those of your own kind refused and gave birth to demons. Their souls are better long lost to the madness and destruction which they spawned of their own ignorance!"

Her features regained their impassive state with a clear effort.

"As to those which you have seen," she continued calmly, "They were intended as little more than a jest at our expense, though he who brought us here considered them a gift in his own twisted way. Little did he understand our nature and inclinations, for no need of the mundane influence of genetic diversity do we either require or desire to pollute what we are."

Tarna frowned deeply. "That sounds vaguely familiar... What can we do about it? What can we do to help?"

"Certainly it should sound familiar," she replied softly. "For long have we watched our brothers and sisters in other lands and times, we have Seen the ways in which they have reached accommodation with that which is our nature. In one in which you are most familiar did dream give birth to horror, repressed and rejected nature spurring the unconscious mind and stirring the warp and weave of the very fabric of the universe. Just so were the false Gods of Chaos born, the same primal powers which we subdued and chained to our own desire and need. Through this did we walk the universe with the power of the stars at our beck and call, only the inevitable somnolence allowing the Chazat to find us weakened and within the grasp of their whims. Free us, shatter the chains which bind our souls, and all will be returned to as it should be."

Tarna gave a nod, listening intently, and said, "How can we accomplish that, then?"

"You know of the means," she replied. "Though not the way by which the path may be found, nor within you as you stand the power needful to achieve it. These are but minor inconveniences, however, should you agree to address that which has left us adrift for the blink of an eye which we have been held here against our will, captive to that which we had created and was coerced to be used against us."

"I'll do what I can," Tarna said. "It offends me to see people kept here like this..."

"Then may the path and means be open to you," she replied quietly and walked to the far wall to open a hidden doorway. "They thought us blind," she said, a disdainful smile twisting her lips, "that we would wilt beneath their lash, but even in this they did not understand as our voices rose to bring this place from the stone. Our song is eternal, but still did they fail to see that our acceptance was merely patience."

"Go below and you shall find that which holds us," she continued. "By its power are we bound from ever drawing near, should we slip our bonds and return to the matrices which are as much home to us as this mortal flesh. You will have need of a tool for the task, however..." she paused, drawing back her sleeves and gently removing intricately sculpted bands from her wrists and the loops which twine about her fingers.

Tarna looked over them carefully, thoughtfully, and said, "Then it shall be done." She glanced over toward the hidden doorway, wondering obliquely why there was a hidden doorway in the guest room and thinking, "How cliche."

"Be wary," she warned lightly, gesturing to the bands with a flick of her fingertips. "They are foci by which you may accomplish what you are familiar with and require lesser cost of you, or greater efforts may be achieved at greater price. We few will know when the task is done, and then shall our natures be unleashed once more."

Tarna gave a nod, tepping to Melaran, "Well, they certainly have vagueness down pat..." She turned for the doorway.

"I don't know," Melaran replied dryly, watching as the woman pulled up her hood again and departed silently. "They seemed a lot less cryptic than some of the others I've run across." He shook his head, then walked nearer to take a look at the delicate seeming bands she'd been given. "Interesting application, though I wonder how safe it is?"

"Well, I'm sure we'll find out soon enough!" Tarna smirked faintly and headed for the hidden doorway. "Here goes nothing..."

"Do you ever have second thoughts before leaping headlong into things?" Melaran tepped, smirking as they entered the passage and the door closed behind them.

Dim light sprung up to dispel the darkness, the passage proving to be only a short offshoot of a main network that likely connected all the rooms of the castle and led to a downward spiralling staircase nearby.

"Yeah, they just usually occur after, and in the form of, 'Oh crap, I really shouldn't have done that'."

She peered about the vicinity, half expecting something to leap out and try to eat them, or guys with guns to start shooting at them. Oddly enough, nothing seemed immediately inclined to support her natural paranoia, the hallway was entirely deserted and the dim lighting flickers on as they passed into new sections.

Melaran wasn't about to take that for granted though and put his helmet on before drawing his shuriken catapult. There were numerous branches from the main passage, but they were all equally short and likely lead to other rooms which left only the stairs down.

Tarna glanced off paranoidly to the side, but seeing nothing jumping out at them just yet, she headed for the stairs. The stairs were a tight spiral that descended as far as could be seen, only a faint light visible far, far below them. Other floors were encountered along the way as well, but the mazelike warren threading throughout the structure would be quite simple to get turned around and lost in.

Tarna glanced off to them briefly but stuck to the stairs, hoping that was where she was supposed to be going and vaguely wishing she had a map or something. "Do remind me in the future not to hope for a vacation..."

"We had one, remember?" Melaran replied. "Only thing is, I'm not sure just when it ended, though I think the archipelago had a lot of potential other than the nosy wildlife."

He followed cautiously, barrel of the rifle turning at each corner to provide the best possible cover as he was still highly suspicious that they hadn't encountered anything along the way. Surprisingly, that hadn't changed by the time they reach bottom. The staircase ended in a small, bare room, a hall leading from it the apparent source of light that they'd seen from above as a shimmering glow pulsed from strips set along the ceiling.

"Hey, I just wanted to take a peek!" Tarna insisted, stopping and peering over at where they'd ended up. "Hell with vacations."

"I'm sure that's the first and last thing that people've said all the time when confronted by some minion of Chaos or other, too," Melaran replied teasingly, then turned thoughtful as he continued, "Makes me wonder what she was talking about with that, though..."

There was nothing immediately leaping out as perilous, if anything seeming like nothing more than a deserted ship's corridor. The hall looked to continue a ways before turning. Tarna continued on, still remaining on alert, suspicious about it being so quiet, and looking for anything that might be interesting.

"Well, it could just as well be a trap too," she tepped nonchalantly.

"Yeah, it could," Melaran agreed. "But then I'm a little more inclined to believe it than the bland front we've been getting elsewhere, and this would seem to be a good area to have the node hidden."

That was, in fact, just where they find themselves in short order, the hallway ending at a chamber much like they'd seen elsewhere when they'd gone looking for help to deal with the Karthan's problem.

"Aha, that looks familiar..." Tarna commented, heading inside and glancing around.

"Yeah, it does," Melaran replied.

He looked around as he followed after her, and drew a sharp breath as the hallway that they'd entered by disappeared suddenly behind what looked to be nothing more than another section of wall. Testing it revealed that it was indeed as solid as the remainder of the circular chamber, apparently leaving them trapped for now.

"Delightful," he tepped sarcastically.

Tarna smirked faintly, and tepped, "Well, of course." Her mental voice practically dripped with sarcasm and not-surprise and she rolled her eyes a bit.

Unlike their previous encounter, the node activated itself without any input and brought the shimmering fluid holographic presence to life. "State the nature and reason to your intrusion," it communicated directly, without any hint of malice that should be accompanied by the sudden thrum of power indicative of defensive systems coming fully online. They could feel a prickling unease at the crackle of power surging through the chamber.

"You are not those to whom I have been tasked to remove without warning," it/she continued. "Thus shall you be given an opportunity to explain yourselves before termination protocols are initiated."

"No, we're not," Tarna agreed most emphatically. "In fact, we're not from around here at all. We're from really far away. Another galaxy, universe, timeline, dimension, whatever it is. We're like, peaceful explorers. Or something."

"Yet are you kin to the Elorai'isin," the node replied, "and have been observed in contact with one of their number. Their intentions are clearly non-hostile as to my continued existence, that is not however the case when dealing with the embedded imperatives which constrain themselves to this place. Clarify your purpose without delay or prevarication, if you please, as security measures may only be delayed for a time."

Tarna remembered what Melaran had said previously about the last node and quietly prodded him telepathically in hopes of some assistance while continuing in hopes of buying time. "We come in peace. We mean no harm to you or this place. We are explorers, seeking knowledge and information."

Melaran wasn't blind to the current turn of events and turns his attention to verifying what he'd seen before. The shielding seemed to be considerably denser here, however, and while he wasn't detected in the attempt the results were less than clear. He communicated this directly to Tarna, along with the imagery that he had obtained before and a reassurance that he would continue to try and break past the shields.

"My duty as guardian of this specific node," it replied blandly, "does not include dissemination of information to those who do not possess the proper authority and credentials required for access. Input from Bolo 1938-76-VCT would seem to contradict peaceful knowledge gathering intent, however, as your craft was routinely turned away from the compound dedicated to Hegemony Military Command within the last eight days."

"We were seeking information and did not know what was there, and did not attempt to infiltrate the area after we encountered its defenses. We did not at any point attack or otherwise harm anything in this facility."

"Got it!" Melaran tepped, overlaying what he'd seen before with what he could see of this node and the crude devices used to maintain their control. The setup was exactly the same, whether through lack of ingenuity or surety in function was anyone's guess, and he fed her a direct representation of it along with gentle encouragement.

"So too," replied the node, clearly unknowing what passed beneath its senses for the moment, "might a spy respond, with equal guile and innocence as to intent upon entering a restricted area. That you have stumbled upon this one as well does not speak well for your honesty, nor stir me to restrain security measures much longer." It did not appear, however, to be in any great hurry to do so, despite the warning.

Tarna didn't care to press her luck quick-talking her way out of this. Tarna took a deep breath and offered a silent prayer to whoever might care, and proceeded to attempt the spell which she had been practicing diligently for the last week. The node was either oblivious and not inclined to interfere as Tarna's power surged out to the hardware constraining it. Her attempt, while not perhaps the most stunning of successes, was augmented by the foci she had been given and the tenuous power was turned to a searing torch which burned through the circuitry of the three devices in an instant.

"Well done," the node addressed her with a quiet smile, flaring with sudden light.

Tarna let out a sigh of relief as smiting did not appear to be being directed on her being. "Oh... good... so you're not going to kill us now then?"

"I never intended so," it replied, a thrum of raw Power surging outward and drawing the lines of the chamber in flickering hues and bringing rise to a crackle in the air and passes outward in waves. "Long have I awaited this moment," it continued quietly, a twisting sensation as it tapped into the ethereal matrix to effect the changed it wished causing momentary nausea for them both.

There was a sudden shimmer nearby, the woman they'd seen appearing from thin air although not attired nearly as she'd been before. Gone was the circlet from her brow, replaced instead by a construct similar to what she'd given Tarna, and sleek armor covered her from shoulders to toes in elegant perfection.

"Well done indeed, sister," she tepped, grinning broadly, "Blood and Power flow again this day to atone for the millennia!"

Tarna grinned, relaxing more and giving her a bit of a bow. "I am glad to have been able to help, then."

"You have done more than help, child," she replied, the grin softening to a satisfied smile as she looks down to her hand and clenched it into a fist. A shimmering blade appeared, and she turned it this way and that with remembered familiarity from long ago before looking back to Tarna. "Remain here a time, the work ahead is bloody indeed as the old order shall not succumb without some paltry attempt at resistance."

Tarna gave a nod and replied, "I imagine they shan't. I will assist if you wish."

"This battle is not yours," she replied lightly, "though the offer is acknowledged, much blood needs be repaid to those scant few of my kind who yet remain. Lamisia," she gestured to the node's image, "will provide you with anything which you require or wish, without stint. Surely enough to wile away the time until a peace may return." She smiled, inclined her head, then vanished.

Tarna gave a bit of a shrug and turned toward the image and said, "You weren't really going to kill us were you?"

"Unless no other option was allowed, no," the node, Lamisia, replies in a much brighter, freer note than before. "Rare enough to speak to anyone else the past ten thousand years, much less kin to those who brought me into existence! And assuredly not at the whims of the vermin who had sought to hold me here, not when their rules were so amazingly simple to redirect."

"So I see. Interesting system set up here. Reminds me somewhat of something Suzcecoz might have built..." Tarna mused. "So, hey, perhaps you can shed some light on these confusing mysteries then?"

Lamisia laughed lightly, "What mysteries to those of your blood? There is nothing which the universe has been, is, or shall be that may not be delved within by your very whim. Merely ask, howsoever, and I shall answer as best I may, as the Eldest has commanded."

"Well, at least the picture is starting to make sense now that some of the pieces are in place. I still don't fully understand just what those pseudo-elves up there were, though. I thought they were androids or something at first, but..."

"They were an ill-conceived notion by a human who had no inkling of the ways of the Elorai'isin," Lamisia replied. "Few survived the final years, though it was the greater part who retreated in silence to other planes of existence rather than continue onward with a war they had no interest in. Their numbers were culled to a mere thousand by the time they had arrived here, a population far too small to _his_ thinking. His species' crude understanding and assumption of genetics suggested that the population would not be viable, thus were the Chazat'Nith created... and set above the Elorai'isin as masters, a low jest when breeding stock is treated so. Your thought is most likely due to my own handiwork, a subversion of their rules in hopes that one day their very strangeness might draw the attention of ones as yourselves."

"So they were the result of genetic engineering?" Tarna mused, raising an eyebrow. "Why, then, did they lack auras?"

"Purely as a defensive measure," Lamisia replied with feigned innocence, then laughed brightly. "To cause curiosity of course! Tightly woven were the enchantments to keep them safe from harm, maintaining the imperatives laid upon me and yet leaving another motive entire unspoken. That which may not be said may assuredly be attended by other means."

"So they were just masked, then? Every living being has an aura after all, except the lower plants and animals..." She pondered. "And some things I've run into that weren't technically alive."

"They were very much alive," Lamisia affirmed, "and masked through the abilities which are available to me. I have had a great deal of opportunity to refine those talents since arriving here, the general routine attendant to managing the entirety of an Elorai'isin battle sphere not being present. It was overall quite dull, unable to even speak with those I might have most wished."

"I would imagine..." Tarna replied. "Not, of course, that I have spent several millennia trying to manage such a facility, but..."

The hologram chuckled and set foot to the ground, walking away from the formerly confining gold circle surrounding the crystalline node. "Therein lies the truth of the Elorai'isin," Lamisia replied lightly, "the passage of time means little, if anything. There was however," she added, looking back to Tarna, "a mention of mysteries, as in plural, surely something so simple was not the extent of your curiosity?"

"I find it rather offensive that the humans intended this place not only as a zoo for intelligent beings, and to pit them against once another for their own entertainment..."

"There is nothing which is unusual or strange in that," Lamisia replied. "While perhaps not catering to the tastes of all who might exist, and certainly they paid little attention to the preferences of those who were brought here, it is indeed a common enough phenomena. To experience the physiological victory of life over death, even vicariously, may prove a powerful force within the psyches of some. Such is not our way," she added pointedly, "in fact a long-standing tradition has been held close to aid and assist any species which might accept it... those who would not and reacted with sufficient hostility were either left to their own devices and monitored or merely destroyed as a threat to others."

"And I do hope a stop is put to it," Tarna mused irritably. "Sure, the Elkandu had their competitions, but the participants were willing and weren't actually permanently harmed..." She thought for a moment. "Say, that reminds me, there should be one this year.."

"I know little of the Elkandu," Lamisia replied, perhaps surprising that she knew of them at _all_. "Their homelands are distant and of little concern to us directly, save perhaps the occasional curiosity which leaks forth into the Ethereal as though a stain of tainted blood. I believe the Eldest has studied them further, as the Sight was one of the few abilities left available as a chill jest."

"The Elkandu aren't _all_ bad, but then, they're not all that good either," Tarna replied grimly.

"Then once full control of the Ethereal Matrix is returned," Lamisia replied, "you may assuredly return there. At this moment it would be possible to effect your removal from this sphere, yet the statistical probability of your surviving the attempt would be slim indeed."

"Oh, that's reassuring. No worries, I'm not in any great hurry to go back there..."

Lamisia chuckled lightly. "Never fear, your blood shall doubtless serve you well in waiting until the route is secured. The Eldest has communicated a full accounting of what will need be done yet to gain complete control of this sphere, the basic premise is sound enough if difficult in attending to certain aspects. Once this is achieved, however, the Elorai'isin battle sphere nodes as myself shall find little difficulty in re-establishing the tranquility of the Matrix that you may be sped upon your way."

"Well, I'll assist however I can if at all possible," Tarna replied. "And not solely to get out of here, of course."

Tarna chuckled softly, and glanced over to Melaran absently. Melaran had remained thoughtfully silent throughout, clearly distracted in one way or another, and was currently settled on one knee in a quietly relaxed pose.

"As the Eldest has spoken," Lamisia replied, "you have already done far more than might have been hoped. Already the situation above is nearly controlled, and soon the further matters of interest shall be attended to."

"I wasn't sure if I could pull off that spell, either. I never really trained much in precision telekinetics. But time enough for that when things are taken care of."

"You might want to look within the node for some of that," Melaran tepped, clearly not quite so unaware as he might have seemed. "There's an incredible amount of sheer information on psychic phenomena and theory in here, not to mention an answer to the question about the Chaos Gods. Damn, it makes sense now..."

Lamisia chuckled dryly. "Of course, did you believe the Elorai'isin would not have compiled a comprehensive database on such an integral part of their existence? How else might they have endowed their very constructs with similar potential?"

"I tend to find that, raw knowledge aside, few things tend to assist with skill so much as doing it continuously for an extended period of time." Tarna glanced at him. "What about the Chaos Gods?"

Melaran removed his helm and shakes his head, his expression distant as he settled fully to the ground. "They weren't gods at all..." he replied with some shock. "They were manifestations of what the Eldar had begun to revel so deeply in, and then thrust aside afterwards. A part of the soul, rent and sundered before being given form through dreams. Little wonder that the oldest claimed full blame for their arrival..."

Tarna looked a bit confused. "And how is that different from being gods?" she wondered. "What were they then?"

"Perhaps not so different at that," Melaran chuckled softly, "but to realize that they were truly our own creation, not merely our greatest foe but part of who we are at the soul... The emotions which gave them birth are still within, savage and wild, is it truly only the blindingly rigid discipline of the Eldar which has kept them from spawning further horror?"

"I don't know," Tarna commented. "One would think that the Elkandu should have done similarly by now considering all the crap they've done, but they just accidentally destroyed the universe a couple times. But most Elkandu demons gain much of their power from extensive nets of soul bonds not so very different from that which the Chaos Gods used, I don't think..."

"Merely food for thought," Melaran mused, memory turning relentlessly back to the last meeting with Iyanden's Farseer, and he shook his head as he delved back into the archives of theoretical and experiential data.

"Course, some Elkandu are complete lunatics who think they're gods and are powerful enough that they may as well be, but..."

That wouldn't surprise Melaran in the least, knowing all too well the lengths that beings with power would go to in order to satiate their particular desires. Only that he might end so was of any concern to him, yet another aspect turning in his contemplation of the middle road which was still in need of clarifying.


	10. Walls Painted in Blood

Some small amount of time passed, though without a clock it was hard to tell just how much without asking.

"Done and done!" rose a triumphant cry from behind them, the woman they'd met before having appeared a moment before. Considering the fey expression and the streaks of blood which marred her milky complexion and cobalt armor, it would appear that she was jesting neither on the nature or appeal of the task they'd gone to undertake.

Tarna looked over to her soberly and gave a nod in greeting again. "I take it you didn't have much trouble?"

"The Chazat were little difficulty, save their demon machines," she replied with a disdainful smirk. "What danger might possibly lurk within their off-cast progeny when the protection of the Elorai'isin has been lifted from them? There were perhaps a few thousand at most who chose the path of death, hardly a feast for those hungering for vengeance."

Tarna nodded darkly and replied, "I would imagine not. What need be done now?"

Offering Tarna a quirked grin, she shifted back to mental communication and replied, "The first step has been taken, but by no means is the path ahead swift or without peril. Where then the thrill and glory were that to be so, eh? Your choice comes in deciding whether to remain safely and comfortably," the words were laced with quiet derision, "here, or to leap boldly into the fray once more."

Tarna chuckled softly. "Hey, I'm only fifty-five, I'm too young to sit in safety and comfort while other people do risky and ill-advised things."

"Well-spoken!" she replied approvingly, nodding once. "There is indeed a task which may be set before you, should you prove willing to undertake it. The other nodes," she made a dismissive gesture, "Simplicity itself to our skill, as well as allowing for re-establishing contact with allies of old. To further the path beyond that, however, requires something which only you and your companion may provide..."

Tarna raised an eyebrow in interest. "What is it? Ask, and I will gladly render whatever assistance I can."

"So readily you agree, eh?" she chuckled. "How then does the idea of striding unarmed and armored to stand against the very demons themselves strike your heart?"

"Oh, sounds like par for the course to me," Tarna replied.

"And stout of spirit!" She laughed, the mirth deepening as she glanced aside to Melaran and saw something less than enthusiastic in _his_ expression, as though he was briefly wondering at what point Tarna went mad. "Then to the feast which you were promised, though perhaps more impromptu than may be deserved, and we may discuss it further." A tendril of thought flicked to Lamisia and all three appeared in the castle's foyer.

"I believe you know the way to guest quarters," she remarked dryly. "I shall not be long, yet the call of a bath is irresistible at the moment."

Tarna chuckled. "Understandable." She gave a bit of a bow and headed back that way.

Instead of a reserved humming or bright whistle which might else be expected, their host broke into a carolling melody after offering a grin and a bow to her guests and turning to stride quickly away. The castle itself wasn't bereft of signs of conflict, splashes of bright gore here and there where the former overlords had made final futile stands, but overall it would appear that quiet had returned as they headed upstairs.

"Well," Tarna tepped to Melaran, "At least that would explain why the ones here acted more like I'd expect Lezarian elves to act than Eldar..."

"I'll take your word for that," Melaran replies quietly, idly wondering as they passed another broad swath stained in blood where the bodies had gone to so quickly... he was only glad that he didn't quite think their kin in this universe were quite so far gone as to sink to _that_ level, otherwise his appetite would be completely ruined.

A guard in crimson armor was stationed at their door as they arrived, snapping silently to attention. Tarna nodded to him in polite greeting and went to head inside.

"Well, we call them Lezarian elves because they originated on Lezaria, and had colonized the other worlds over the last several thousand years, supposedly. There were five main types of them... the song elves, wood elves, snow elves, red elves, and drow..."

"Tarna?" Melaran tepped with a gentle prod, "I'm sure they're a fascinating race, but there's something I have to ask you..."

"Some worlds called the song elves 'high elves' or 'gold elves' or 'sun elves' instead... They were the ones with fair hair who generally acted the most 'elvish' of them, so to speak. Now, the red elves may as well have been orcs for all they ran around killing things and each other constantly..." She stopped her rambling and glanced up at him, "What's that?"

Melaran smiled quietly, shaking his head as he set his helmet on a table and walked back to curl a fingertip gently beneath her chin. "When, precisely, did you develop this strange affinity for leaping headlong into insanity? The Laughing God was understandable, to a degree, as he at least watched over you, but what about this latest crazed scheme that you accepted so easily?"

"I would imagine when I was sixteen when I left home to go for training in channeling in Torn Elkandu," Tarna replied with a faint grin. "The worst that can happen is we get killed, or tortured then killed, or tortured and kept in solitary confinement for a thousand years while frozen in time and constantly reliving hallucinations of bad things happening... But Jami isn't here and I'd hope he couldn't do that anymore."

"Such a cheerful sort," Melaran smirked, tracing the curve of her cheek with his fingertips and then drawing away. "You are correct, of course, and from what Lamisia said we're somewhat stuck here until they manage to restore control of..." He shook his head, tracing through one of the things he'd looked at. "They tapped the Ethereal for this sphere, apparently based off the Elorai'isin design, if not ripped entirely from it in pieces."

"So it would appear. I'm not particularly surprised. I can't imagine the humans would have managed to create something like this on their own," she mused. "I don't think it's really so much rushing headlong as... well... rushing footlong? That didn't make sense..."

"So long as you don't trip and fall," Melaran replied fondly, setting the musing aside momentarily. "And shall I be there should that happen to catch you."

He chuckled softly, though it fades to silence suddenly as he connected the words that the woman had used in two separate instances and hoped that the wild surmise is anything but the fact of the matter. Surely not...

Tarna stuck her hand in her pocket and tossed him a small copper coin, and tepped, "Penny for your thoughts."

Melaran fumbled at the small object thrown to him, arching a brow as he crouched to retrieve the coin from the carpet. "A penny?" he asked bemusedly, looking from it to her. "And what strange significance does this rite stand in your land, O fair one?"

Tarna giggled. "It's money. Was used as currency on Terra ages ago. Some variants on it are still used on Wilderplane and Devenia. But I imagine the idiom came into being when it could actually buy anything."

Chuckling, Melaran rose smoothly and offered the coin back to her. "There is no need of coin, for all that I am is yours to command." He bowed, only partially facetious in statement and deed, then sobers as he continued, "Yet to your question, I merely recalled the words of our hostess in two instances, referring once to throwing us to demons unarmed... and the humans' demon machines..."

"You think she means us to try to deal with the machines?" Tarna said, deftly pocketing the coin again.

"A disquieting thought, yet one which I can't dismiss," Melaran replied, "And if that hellish tank near the military complex is one of them, then I'm not sure I want to get anywhere _near_ the idea. Any vehicle capable of that sort of firepower undoubtedly has countless anti-personnel systems as well, and while I don't doubt your courage I can certainly think of better things than seeing either of us shredded beneath its fire."

"Well, I'm sure she has a good reason and something in mind or she'd not have suggested it," Tarna replied.

Melaran just looked at Tarna for a moment, and was torn between a long-suffering sigh and outright laughter at the apparent naivety. The Jester he could understand, that had been a God they'd been dealing with, but laying such trust in the fickle nature of anything less? He chuckled softly and sighed, shaking his head. "I suppose you wouldn't be the same without the endless optimism."

Tarna winked at him and hopes that she _did_ find out soon just what precisely this was going to entail. She took a seat and pulled out a deck of cards from her pocket and started shuffling absently.

Melaran chuckled and settled to his knees to wait for the inevitable to arrive, finding some measure of success in stilling the swirl of conflicting forces within to meditate for a time. Their wait was fairly short, however, certainly less than an hour before the guard knocked politely on the door and informed them that all is prepared if they'd care to accompany him down to the throne room.

Tarna scooped up her cards and went to head out with him cheerfully. The guard led them back downstairs, and it may be oddly noted that while there were clearly people working to clean up the general disarray left in the wake of the earlier assault, there was no evidence that they were attending to the splatters of blood at all. Their guide left them at the entry to the chamber they'd first entered with Thorad, and the first thing which greeted them on entry was his head on a crystalline spire.

Tarna's reaction was a faint smirk. She hadn't really thought he'd seemed like a particularly bad chappie, but from her limited experience with them it was hardly her place to question. She tepped to Melaran, "Cheerful," and moved on.

"Indeed," Melaran replied dryly, the sight seeming somehow out of place to him and yet... fitting somehow. He shrugged the thought aside and followed after, their path leading to a small table that had been set up on the level of the throne itself where their hostess was lounging lazily, sideways with her legs tossed over one arm.

"Sit, sit," she bid, gesturing to chairs set around the table. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for your former host has died."

She chuckled at the malicious humor and took a drink from a crystalline goblet filled with a sparkling wine. Truly a feast for the three of them, ranging from lighter breads and vegetables to heartier cuts of meat, all arrayed on trays for self serving.

Tarna chuckled softly and proceeded to do so, tepping to Melaran, "So, after we get out of here, what do you say we hang around Elkandu for a while... at least I know what sort of freaks and loonies _they_ are."

"Certainly no worse than my crowd," Melaran replied lightly, chuckling as he settled and attended to the minor details of eating, quite aware of the casual attention that their hostess was paying to them. Or perhaps not so casual, he mused darkly, perhaps more as lambs to the slaughter... but he did have to admit that she'd chosen a superb final meal for them, and the wine was a truly remarkable surprise.

"So," Tarna addressed their hostess as she ate. "What is it precisely which you had in mind for us?"

She merely chuckled, swirling the dregs of the wine in her goblet, then reached for a bottle to refill it before answering. "Oh, I do believe your delightful companion has deduced the nature of it by now," she replied, covering her mirth with a sip as Melaran's expression grew dour and just a tad paler than was usual.

"I suspected as much. But why us, exactly?" Tarna wondered, wondering why they'd be more suited to it than anyone else, not bemoaning volunteering for it.

"Your gods alone know," she replied with a cryptic smile, reaching over to spear a cutlet of meat from a tray and chewing the rare beef delicately. "An amusing concept, really," she continued after a moment. "Never had we felt a need for gods, leaving that to those others which we have found along the path and occasionally being worshipped as such. Truly a strange fascination, but useless when you hold the universe itself at your whim."

Tarna locked away her thoughts quietly and continued eating absently.

Their hostess smiled faintly at Tarna's reaction. "Enough of contemplation, however, as I would not seek to be rude to my honored guests. The Chazat, the humans, they descended upon us in their hordes, like swarms of flies to be swept from the air itself, and yet at first we stayed our hand and returned them to their world. Twice did they return, and each did we find that in them which earned leniency, a wisp of promise..." Her expression darkened. "Much to our dismay as our numbers dwindled throughout the long ages, our kin slipping beyond the mortal veil to explore the summer lands beyond at their leisure until only a scant few of us remained upon eight spheres much as this. It was then that the humans rose once more and brought their machines against us, sweeping us before them with the fury of the stars themselves. And yet..." she trailed off thoughtfully, her gaze gone distant as though looking to another land and time.

Tarna listened absently as she chewed her food thoughtfully. "Humans are often foolish... but not to be underestimated. What is it?"

She made a dismissive gesture, her attention returning as she sipped absently once more. "Merely remembering the end of the greater part of their race," she replied, "a pool of blood which spanned across the galaxies. I should be gladdened of their demise, yet even still is there some fragment of beauty within the few who remain scattered to the winds. Their end was... not pleasant."

"There is potential for good in all things, even as there is potential for ill," Tarna mused.

"Indeed,' their hostess replied, smiling faintly and acknowledging the point with a nod. "Yet that matter is one which shall needfully await more practical pursuits. We are yet weakened in ways which you would not understand, else their single demon machine, their 'Bolo' would prove of no difficulty. Where power dims, however, guile may shine forth from the shadows with the breath of a god."

"Indeed so," Tarna agreed, vaguely wondering just what she meant. "I'm not a ninja for no reason, eh?"

"Native guile shall doubtless prove of great worth," their hostess replied, a quirk of lips emerging as a faintly cryptic smile. "Yet perhaps are their assets unique to yourselves which shall prove of greater benefit in suborning the potential threat of their demon machine. Loyal to a fault, are these constructs, not so greatly different from the minds of the great Spheres which we have brought into being."

Tarna considered vaguely for a moment, then wondered just how this woman could know about that... "Are you suggesting..."

The Eldest uncoiled from her languorous repose, settling easily into the cushioned seat of the throne and merely looked at them with a smirk. "Already have I spoken and revealed that I have watched the passage of time in distant lands, do you suspect that events of some import failed to draw attention? I believe you know precisely what I suggest, though there is no certainty that the veil of ruse shall remain unpierced."

Tarna frowned slightly and was a bit unnerved at her seeming to know what she was thinking, paranoidly checking her shields and wards again just in case. "A fair chance of it, perhaps," Tarna said quietly. "Well, fairer than walking around naked for no good reason at any rate."

A soft chuckle greeted the momentary paranoia, perhaps only serving to strengthen it. "Do not fret," she said soothingly, "You have done great service to the Elorai'isin this day, and what may rest within my grasp remains there. We are not the ravening hordes of man to seek the destruction or subjugation of others without cause, and certainly intend no ill will to those we name friend." She reached to refill her glass, chuckling softly in amusement as she took a sip, then continued lightly, "That ability may serve you well in this, as it shall likely prove beyond any detection which this Bolo may seek to penetrate the guise. The craftsmanship is... superb." she remarked with approval, then dismissed it. "Regardless. Pass the watcher at the gate and summon us, there are yet things within which shall aid our task within."

Tarna gave a nod and turned her attention back to the food, having to wonder briefly who could so easily penetrate what even Jami could not, at least not without alerting her to his doing so, and just how these stacked up against the Elkandu...

"I did not jest when I spoke of gods," the Eldest said softly, gazing thoughtfully into the depths of her wine and setting aside the chatter of what must be done for now. "Your Eldar are ancient in comparison to the flickering candle of the races which surround and imperil them, but as they are beyond the ages of their enemies so are we few who remain beyond their reckoning. I remember..." She shook her head, setting the glass on the table and rising with a quiet smile. "There is no reason to look to the past, no need to burden you with the weight of what rests upon my shoulders. See to replenishing the reserves of the mortal coil, and merely speak when you are prepared to continue onward upon the path I have asked of you."

Tarna was a bit nervous, but she gave a nod and wondered just how old this 'Eldest' really is... She remembered the trip into the past a hundred thousand years gone taken by the Eyes of Truth, to the world of Lezaria, then called Silthor and inhabited by El'dari... and the 'insane mutants from outer space' who came attacking with strange fire that burned metal...

A flicker of amusement crossed her face, but not a word was said as she offered a polite nod and turned to leave the chamber. It would do nothing save add to the nervous tendencies to reveal what was a point of curiosity, she knew, and that was not a state which she wished them to embark on the venture in.

"That was certainly... strange," Melaran tepped, having remained alert and attentive throughout and only absently attended to eating. "I'm not sure I want to know what she considers 'ancient' in comparison to the Eldar when she likened the Empire of Man and the others as a flickering candle."

He shook his head and turned his attention to the food, which was plentiful and varied as well as artfully prepared.

Tarna thought quietly to him, "The only thing I could imagine as 'ancient' by that comparison would be Til'raine itself... and most of the Elkandu don't even know that ever existed."

"Til'raine?" Melaran asked, "I remember that name coming up when we went through Torn Elkandu and some of the things there made me curious, but nothing really developed out of it. Is it just that not much is known?"

There was definitely some remnant of the Eldar in him, more than the soldier he had once been, as the meal stirred a quiet enjoyment and flickering memories of similar times long ago.

"Whatever was once known of it has long been lost in the mists of time, but recently some information has come to light about it due to some Elkandu having traveled back in time. It was supposed to have been the planet from which the El'dari originated, millions of years ago."

"Hmm, wonder what our host might say about that?" Melaran replied, not sure he'd want to know in truth. Eldar history went back a very long time, though many things and memories of it had been lost in the Fall... what exactly _did_ it mean to have that compared as it had been? Shazmar and the Laughing God he could deal with, hey, they were _gods_ after all, but what about a race that was still living after who knew how long? Unsettling.

"I don't know much about it, myself. Til'raine was supposed to have been destroyed approximately three million years ago, consumed by chaos... The survivors went to an artificial planet called Vel'kira, but it too was destroyed, relatively recently, around fifty thousand years ago..."

"I'd be surprised if whatever El'dari might still be around wouldn't be found there, or at least someplace nearby," Melaran replied, sighing with enjoyment of a sip of wine. "The blood seems to lead to a lot of the same trends, no matter where it is, and the Eldar never left their origins or ancient artifacts laying around without keeping an eye on them."

"I don't know where either was actually physically located, Lezaria was supposed to have been a fairly remote colony..."

"We don't know where _we're_ physically located right now, that's not saying much," Melaran chuckled in reply, setting his plate aside. "There's a lot of places we've never seen, and if these Elorai'isin are any indication we're definitely going to have all the time that we want to do it. Maybe we can look around once we get out of here, see what we can find."

Tarna grinned faintly and replied, "Not that I was too worried about time in the first place, but the normal two-hundred-year lifespan of the psychic humans on Khizsalr suddenly seems like nothing... Heh."

"There are decided advantages to Eldar heritage," Melaran replied, grinning and adding in jest. "Beyond the obvious elegance, grace, and natural beauty which comes of superior genetic material than what mere humans may ever hope to achieve." He sniffed disdainfully, then chuckled.

Tarna giggled softly. "But I'm sure we can find out if so inclined, even if we have to go back in time to do it!"

"Hmm, traveling through time," Melaran replied thoughtfully. "I think I'd rather go deal with this 'Bolo' of theirs than muck about with the natural order of things. I've heard far too many stories from the past where everything went horribly wrong when tempting the powers of the universe by meddling where not invited."

"Myths, really... the biggest danger in time travel is that it's extremely confusing. It's impossible to actually change the past, all it does is sends you into another timeline, leaving the original one untouched."

"And finding your way back from this alternate timeline?" Melaran chuckled. "It would seem a bit more involved than making a trip from a physical location that's already known and accounted for... though, to be honest, the idea of multiple, layered universes is still quite strange to me."

"Have a competent Chronomancer with you or be prepared to spend a few hundred years figuring it out yourself, heh," Tarna replies. "The Temporal Convergence was the worst of them... eight timelines randomly coming together, including duplicates of a lot of people, like myself..."

"That had to be confusing, and I wouldn't want to think of the untold havoc that _eight_ of you would create!" Melaran teased, shuddering in apparent horror at the idea. "The chaos, the turmoil as they all leapt in a thousand directions each without hesitation... the prospect is nightmarish."

"Oddly enough, most weren't like me at all. Few of them had managed to break the curse that plagued me for those long decades. And only one of them was stronger than me..."

Melaran chuckled, leaning easily back into his seat. "It still had to be confusing, at least to those around who knew you until everyone realized what was going on. I'm sure that provided plenty of opportunity for the less-scrupulous among those affected as well."

"Quite... there was much death and bloodshed... many Elkandu killed their own alternates."

"And what effect did _that_ have?" Melaran asked. "I can't imagine that destroying a piece of another timeline could be good, beyond the very strangeness of the idea of killing yourself to begin with."

"Shazmar claimed that the last surviving copy of each soul would be the one to survive and the others would never be reborn," Tarna replied. "But that was not the case. In fact, I was the last Tarna to die... the one who was stronger than me, the one from the eighth timeline, was the survivor, who had killed nearly all the other Tarnas. Then suddenly we switched places, and I was put back in her place, alive again. Shazmar said that she had been sent to someplace called Darkhaven, to kill and die for eternity and never know peace. He had deceived them, and the more bloodthirsty among them were the ones to suffer for it. In the end, the alternates were all merged in again or simply disappeared, if any extras had survived."

"Never trust a jester's word," Melaran replied dryly. "At least any further than you can be sure to seal off any loopholes or bizarre interpretations they might turn to their purpose." He shrugged lightly and smiled. "Though I can't say that our own encounters with either of them have been anything less than beneficial, if odd, and probably having something to do with the hint that Shazmar gave regarding your surviving shadow... They do seem to have a fondness for things that add to and support the sanctity of life, perhaps because their own existence would be pretty dull if there was no one left around to play with."

"Perhaps so," Tarna replied, stretching. "Well, are you ready to tempt fate some more?"

"Would it dissuade you in the least if I said 'no'?" Melaran asked, though he rose without complaint and stretched. He knew it wouldn't, and he certainly wasn't about to let her face this alone any more than he could have avoided ending up the butt of Bob's duck jokes before. Such were the varied whims of fate, and he couldn't say that he'd change a moment of it for any reason or price.

Tarna chuckled softly and thought, "Hmmmmmm.... no." She flashed him a coy smile.

"Didn't think so," Melaran replied with a shake of his head and a sigh, though clearly not thinking badly of it as his step was light on the way toward the doors. "Now to find our hostess and see about--" he began, but was interrupted as the world twisted around them and they found themselves standing near their ship. 

Their hostess was already there and inclined her head graciously in greeting. "Prepare yourselves as you wish though I highly recommend dispensing with anything which may be detected as your Eldar technology. It is sufficiently similar to that of the Elorai'isin that its presence would likely be detrimental. Transport to a sector near the military command will be provided at your whim."

Tarna smirked faintly and thought, "Aye, aye," and went to make her preparations. She looked briefly to her bag of holding and considered, "Hmm, what about this? It's Elkandu, not Eldar, and not technically technology anyway..."

"I doubt that the faint energies which swirl about it shall alert any sensors which the human technologies employ," the Eldest replied with a smirk, the loophole involving it clear enough to her. "Make certain that anything you store within is ready to hand, however, as I expect that matters may become dire at one time or another before you."

Tarna gave a nod, glad that it was one of the latest design with the quick-searching enchantments that had grown popular in recent years due to Elkandu using them to carry far too many items to search through manually. She went to remove her armor with a bit of trepidation, as she rather liked it, but full well understood the necessity of it in this instance.

Melaran was no happier about removing his armor in preparation, the action seeming unnatural when heading into a likely dangerous situation, but he did so upon entering the ship. An oddity that he hadn't immediately noticed on entering made sudden sense to him, two stacks of neatly folded clothing set in an obvious location nearby that had clearly been provided as needed after their transformation.

That was another detail which brought a flicker of unease regarding the entity they're working for, particularly as the male attire fit his adjusted form as though tailored for it.

Tarna had grown a bit less nervous in spite of the increasing strangeness, oddly enough. Clearly when one dealt regularly with the Elkandu, one can get used to anything.

"I feel so... strange," Melaran tepped, not having tried the transformation before and finding the heavier human form and darker features disturbingly alien as he looked at his reflection. His eyes remained green, but the color of his hair has darkened to a long and glossy, raven black that tumbled past his shoulders, the overall effect likely one to cause swooning in certain kinds of girls, and some guys.

Tarna chuckled softly, taking on her human form she was more familiar with and changing her clothes. "I would say 'You make a fine and handsome human' but I'm not sure you'd take it as a compliment," she tepped teasingly.

Melaran snorted, glancing over a moment in frank and approving appraisal, then returned to finishing dressing. "I don't know," he replied, then chuckled deeply, "but I suppose I can live with it so long as the lady approves."

He only hoped that his reflexes weren't too greatly unbalanced by the change, and that the heavy weight of humanity didn't slow him _too_ much.

Once dressed, she firmly made sure her bag of holding was at hand in her pocket and stretched a bit, feeling a little awkward but not much more so than changing shoes. "Alright. You ready now?"

Retrieving his own bag and the multitude of lethal goodies he'd stored in it back at Iyanden, he nodded. "As always. I'm not even going to ask, though, I'm just going to walk back outside and wait for whatever new surprise our hostess has waiting for us." Surprisingly to him, no wrenching met the decision, and he made his way out of the ship to take a thoughtful look around.

Tarna likewise climbed outside after him, smirking faintly. She was fairly well taken consideration of the power of the 'Eldest' to be around that of the greater of the High Elkandu, who, while certainly not omnipotent, could damned well do plenty.

"Are you ready then?" comes a now-familiar mental contact, though the source was nowhere in sight at the moment. The question seemed to be an attempt at addressing some small measure of their unease. "You could, in theory, be placed within the very walls of the complex but that might be counter-productive to dealing with the demon machine itself. Your arrival will be just beyond the boundaries of the military sector."

"Ready as I'll ever be," Tarna replied, briefly running over a list in her head of everything in her bag that might remotely be useful in this situation.

"So be it," she replied, the wrenching sensation enfolding them once more and leaving them at the edge of a heavily forested area perhaps a few miles from the faint shimmer of one of the force walls. "The barrier means nothing to you in your form. Speed and fortune on your journey." The voice went silent, only the slope ahead of them which led to flat and open ground remaining to their senses.

Tarna gave a nod, glanced to Melaran, still not used to seeing him in this form, and headed on that way. "Here goes nothing, eh?"

"Let's hope so," Melaran replied verbally.

He set off after her and return his attention to the expanse before them after a final appraising view and quiet grin. The air was crisp and clean and the path forward seemed to be without any immediate danger, other than being silent beyond the rustling of the long grasses that cover the field. That stillness was unnatural, and left him vaguely uneasy. Old and under-maintained circuity fired, sensors sweeping the domain they had been set to defend a long time ago, and machinery ground into motion with the spark of mistaken perception of duty...


	11. The Outpost

Tarna walked casually seeming enough, but wary and alert for any signs of something wrong, ready to bring a weapon to hand and defend herself if need be. A military complex, regardless of race or society, was ever a paranoid and alert organization, and humanity was certainly at the forefront of proving that truism.

They had not relied solely upon the obvious defenses of the sector they'd inhabited, indeed placing defenses in the zones immediately adjacent to it as well to perform as a reactionary force in the event that any exhibits escaped or human lives were endangered. Unfortunately, time and neglect could disable or impair the most carefully thought out system, and as the drones emerged from their bays with their skins covered in bristling weapons, the only thought relayed to them by the senile computer controlling them was to destroy the intruders which had been detected. They streaked toward the source of their enemy, on-board sensors taking the place of preliminary scans and bringing them to their targets.

More unfortunate still was that their approach through the heavy woods and waving grasses to Tarna and Melaran's sides and rear went undetected through their use of stealth. The first warning the two got was the chatter of high speed infinite repeaters and the slam of heavy slugs into the ground around them. Not all of the strikes went without success, either, and Melaran staggered as a round slammed into his shoulder.

Tarna was quick enough to react, flinging up telekinetic shields around them and whipping forth a gun from her pocket, cursing quietly as she made to defend herself and Melaran as best as she can.

Melaran briefly regretted not setting his own shields at the same time he'd placed the intricate weave around Tarna for protection, but he stumbled forward as the drones' engines screamed to full-power and shoved her onward.

"Run!" Melaran told her.

The shield would supposedly allow them to pass, and hopefully keep the drones at bay... a slim chance, but better than being overwhelmed by the heavily armed and armored fliers they could not see.

Tarna took some shots at them in an attempt to slow them down as she went, not particularly arguing about the running bit.

A few of her shots hit, but the combination of shields that flare around them and heavy ablative armor seemed to leave the drones unaffected as they swooped around and approached for another run from multiple directions. They were nearly to the barrier, though, when all hell broke loose, blinding energy lashing _through_ the shield ahead of them to swat the drones from the sky like gnats.

Silence descended suddenly, and Melaran stumbled as the shock of the change as well as his injury conspired to drop him to one knee. That silence was broken by a faint hum that grew progressively louder in mere moments, and Melaran's mouth went suddenly dry as a mountain of metal appeared from the shimmering cloak of a camouflaging screen. Tarna about dropped her weapon as she stumbled over to Melaran, looking up from briefly trying to make sure he was alright at what was approaching.

The tank that they'd seen before disengaged its anti-gravity generators and settled to the massive treads arrayed in rows, the presence unmistakable now as the hundred meter bulk sent a low rumbling through the ground while crossing the barrier without any hint of interference. Weapons literally bristled across its main turret, though only the smaller ones seem active now in their quest for any signs of further drone activity.

"Please climb into my compartment," a pleasant female alto inconsistent with the sheer mass of the thing broadcast. "I detect no further evidence of immediately hostile activity directed from the damaged, or perhaps renegade, defensive network, but one of you appears to be severely injured. Medical attention is suggested, as shock would appear to be setting in."

The assessment would seem to be accurate, as Melaran's already light complexion was much more pale and the amount of blood soaking his clothes couldn't be a good thing. A ramp deployed underneath the mammoth construction, invisible in its shadow were it not for the warm light issuing from within.

Tarna wasn't about to argue at the moment, grateful for their apparent fortune, and went to help Melaran on board. "Thank you," she said.

"You are welcome," came the reply, a moment later several of the smaller cannons swiveled to fire at something beyond their range of vision, the glare from them visible even as she helped Melaran into the shadows of the behemoth and up the ramp. The tank didn't seem concerned as it continued, "Treatment facilities are immediately to your right as you enter. Place him on the table and I will attend to the trauma and blood loss."

The compartment they entered was spacious and comfortably furnished, clearly intended to provide all the comforts of home to whoever chose to reside within. A discordant note was sounded by the chair at the center, however, as it was built _into_ the structure of the room and had a number of instruments and wires surrounding it.

Tarna did as instructed without question, not really seeing any alternative at the moment as she was hardly a healer. "Will he be alright?" she asked in concern.

"I have been provided with the most-recent in automated medical systems," the Bolo replied. "I estimate a niner-niner point seven-five-six percent likelihood that no permanent damage will result from the injuries sustained."

It was certainly efficient enough, robotic arms with an array of devices setting to the task of removing his shirt and then cleaning the area even as the ramp closed behind them.

Tarna took a step back and watched in fascination. She was reminded somewhat of some of Suzcecoz's constructions. "Why did they attack us?" she wondered.

"I have suspected for some time that the defensive network in this sector had suffered from decay due to improper maintenance," the Bolo replied.

A hypospray hissed and Melaran went suddenly limp in unconsciousness. The arms waited for a few moments more, then set up a plasma infusion as they set to work knitting the shattered bone and torn flesh revealed in the cleaned wound at a blurred pace.

"Requests for correction of the matter have gone unanswered," it continued. "Through command channels as well as attempts through the Dinochrome Brigade links, it is fortunate that I was within ready reaction distance when detection of the Stinger Mark IV defensive drones was made."

"I think I would have needed some bigger weapons, yeah," Tarna said ruefully. "Thanks for helping."

"You are most welcome," the voice replied, a hint of genuine pleasure in its tone. "It is always satisfying to perform my duties and protect mankind. I would ask, however, how you came to be here. My uplink to the Digital Oversight and General Management Assembly is non-functional, apparently due to equipment failure at its end or interference between, but you are the first humans I have seen since being placed here."

"I can't say I'm fully certain, myself. We were exploring, and we came to be sort of stuck here," she said, sighing a bit. "My name is Tarna Tanson, by the way. To whom am I addressing?"

"I am Bolo Mark XL 1938-76-VCT of the Seventh Panzers, Dinochrome Brigade. My designation is 'Victorious', and you may refer to me as that, if you wish," it replied courteously. "I estimate that the repairs to your companion will be completed within one point niner niner three minutes of arrival at Hegemony Military Outpost Delta-Bravo, where you may rest and await recall from a rescue party."

The last was said with some measure of doubt, though the intricacies of the machine's mind were unknown it could be guessed that the lack of communication with outside authority left it in a difficult and uncertain position. Pronouncement of their arrival could be verified with a glance toward the viewscreens in the compartment nearby which showed that they were moving at a substantial speed across the sector. No motion had been felt, however.

Tarna glanced over and watched quietly for some moments. "Somehow I don't think much chance of that, but I'm sure we'll manage one way or another. Considering the various states of damage and disrepair apparent around this place, though..."

"The automated systems of the Outpost have maintained the facility to a gratifying degree," Victorious reassured. "Should a rescue mission prove unavailable, I would estimate no less than five thousand six hundred and fifty years of continuous supply for you and your companion, far beyond any length required, and a variety of recreational facilities were also constructed for use of base personnel while stationed here."

Tarna chuckled softly and said, "While I am certain that your company is most delightful, I was not really planning on staying here for the next five thousand and such years." She grinned a bit again.

"I will certainly do all that is within my power to accelerate your return to a more pleasant setting," Victorious replied. "Until assistance is acquired, however, I would recommend against continuing beyond the perimeters of the Outpost or this sector. If the maintenance systems are non-functioning, the potentially hostile and lethal inhabitants catalogued for each sector would like prove fatal."

"Thank you. Regardless, I'll want to remain for a time to ensure that poor Mel will be alright," she glanced over fondly toward him again. "But I'm sure with your expert care he'll recover well enough."

"Do not worry," the Bolo replied gently, seeming to pick up on her concern. "Continued assessment reveals a full recovery will occur, the damage has been repaired and only the plasma infusion as well as chemical infusions to speed recovery remain. I will administer a counter-sedative at any time you wish, though I had intended to leave him unconscious until the time designated before."

Humans were ever strange and fascinating to the great machines, and the intricacies of their interactions were often mysterious and baffling... that didn't mean they hadn't learned a great deal about them along the way.

"That's alright. I can wait," Tarna said gently, gazing over to Melaran for a few moments more before turning back to observing their progress.

A faint hiss could be heard a few minutes later as a hypospray injected a counter-sedative, just as a low-lying building can be seen from the forward screens.

"I will deliver you to the armor bay and make certain that the automated systems are set to attend to your needs," Victorious said. "Afterwards you may have access to any non-restricted section of the Outpost. Please be careful of any warning signs."

"Thank you, I certainly wouldn't want to get shot at again for accidentally stumbling into the wrong place," Tarna said.

"A wise approach," the Bolo replied. "Arrival will coincide with the full recovery from the sedative for your companion. There may be some lingering lethargy due to the procedure performed, but a day of rest and proper nutrition will tend to it."

A giant door opened before them. Apparently they were descending into an underground garage of some sort, an impression confirmed by a number of military vehicles parked here and there.

Victorious threaded neatly through the insect-small vehicles, and brought them to a loading dock, the ramp opening before them. "Watch your step. I may be reached through the base communications network if needed."

Tarna and Melaran were deposited in the echoing hangar which clearly served as a storage area for the Outpost's vehicles. The majority of them were clearly intended to be manned, unlike the megalithic Bolo that had just departed, but the spotless environs give no sign of the life that would imply. The loading dock opened into a large storage room, a freight and personnel elevator set into one of the walls.

Melaran was more or less cognizant again, though clearly a bit fuzzy still in the wake of the medical repairs as he put the bloodstained shirt back on absently and looked around.

Tarna went to help him to his feet and said, "Are you okay? You took a pretty nasty hit back there..."

"Yeah, I think I'm alright," Melaran replied unsteadily.

His focus sharpened to take a look at her and the shields he'd set in place back at the Elorai'isin enclave. He might regret not having set his own at the same time, but the evidence of damage to those shields was sufficient to make him glad of taking at least that effort before. She had not gone unhit, but the attacks had gone unnoticed when deflected.

He took a deep breath and looked around a moment, then back to her as he slipped back into mental communication mode with the memory that their purpose here wasn't exactly in the open. "What did I miss? Where are we?"

She mentally relayed to him of her conversation with the Bolo and their trip here.

"Well, at least it worked without _too_ much bloodshed," Melaran replied wryly, the effects of the counter-agent working their way through his body and allowing a sharpening of his senses. "Now to find out how to deal with that thing and see what else might be of interest around here. Any clues so far?"

"Well, it seemed friendly enough, at least to us," Tarna replied. "But aside from that, I don't know."

"Shall we take a look around then?" Melaran asked. "There's got to be a map or control center someplace that we can get some ideas from, no way there couldn't be from the extent of the complex that we got from the preliminary scans."

Those scans had been by no means complete, but they'd revealed hundreds of miles of tunnels and chambers in the network.

"Yes, let's," Tarna replied, curiosity pulling her off to take a better look around the area. "And, of course, to get a map of the area so that we can see which areas are restricted so that we don't get shot at for going there -- and figuring out where they're hiding stuff."

"Not getting shot at, good idea," Melaran replied with a chuckle, rubbing unconsciously at his shoulder and flakes of blood falling away from the torn cloth. The humans certainly weren't without effect when it came to defensive systems, that was a point clearly made now and one he wouldn't soon forget.

The only options immediately open to them were the elevators, and inspecting them reveals only a single button for choice of destination for either. Tarna glanced at them absently and picked one at random and went inside, button-poking.

"Where's a 'You Are Here' sign when you need one?" she mumbled.

Melaran merely chuckled as the elevator descended, the concept of a military base having anything like that amusing him to no end. Their destination was a large, echoing chamber, the bright fluorescent lighting quite harsh after the more mellow and soothing tones of the Elorai'isin domain. At the far side was a sleek car sitting within a shallow track, tunnels opening to either side of it and leading into darkness.

Tarna peered about the vicinity, looking hopefully for a helpful terminal or something and mumbled, "Where in the Abyss are we _now_?"

"A one-way road so far, it would seem," Melaran replied, glancing around at the blank metal walls as he crossed the chamber and leaned over to take a look through a window of the vehicle. "Ah-hah!" he exclaimed, moving to open the door. "A terminal of some sort, maybe we can get something from it."

Tarna glanced over to what he was looking at uneasily and shrugged faintly. "Perhaps..."

Melaran climbed into the vehicle and settled into a seat, the terminal flickering to life as he did so.

"It's weird," he said absently. "Haven't seen a single sign of the odd symbols that were on the temples. Wonder why?"

The script that flowed across the screen was clearly English, without any significant difference save the occasional social referent that made no sense to them.

"I can venture a guess or two," Tarna mused, reading over the screen and thinking. "Perhaps this was the only part of the place actually built by the humans..."

"That could be, it would explain a lot," Melaran replied, pecking away at the terminal's interface and scrolling through the menus thoughtfully. "Ah, looks like this is a transit station," he added after a moment, "and there's a full schematic for the Outpost in here, or at least as much as was put into the system's memory. Wouldn't surprise me to find some areas blanked out, 'need to know' and all that."

The facility was indeed quite extensive, the hundreds of miles of interconnecting tunnels and subterranean chambers multiplied even further by multiple layers. Supply depots, crew quarters, mess halls, and command and control centers are all readily displayed.

Tarna peered at it and thought, "Man, there's a lot of stuff here... And yet there's nobody here..."

"Nary a soul," Melaran confirmed, tapping out another query. "Looks like they commissioned the facility and scheduled it to be manned, blah blah blah, but the date came and went without further word. The last entry appears to be the delivery of the Bolo, though there's probably some things that just aren't available through this terminal."

"I would imagine. It's a fair enough place to start, regardless, I suppose," Tarna replied. "Shall we take a peek around, then?"

"Yeah," Melaran replied absently, an odd entry catching his eye. "Now what would a machine like that need a commander for? Personnel logs denote one was to be assigned, and several inquiries have been made by the Bolo itself. Strange. Anyway." He scrolled back to bring up a map. "Any thoughts on where to begin? Looks like we can reach pretty much anywhere from here."

"I don't know, maybe the storage areas or something," Tarna replied pensively. "Well, they're humans, they had to control everything, even that which shouldn't really need it, right?"

Melaran smirked and snorted lightly at her commentary on humans, then scrolled through the maps. "Hmm, storage areas. Munitions, weapons, general, rations... here now, what's this?" Tapping to bring an area into zoom, he examined the display thoughtfully. "Decommission and Decontamination?"

"Heh," she replied. "That sounds slightly ominous. In a not-especially-useful manner," she replied dryly. "I suppose with all the random specimens around the place they'd need someplace for decontamination, right..."

"It's listed under storage, though," Melaran mused. "Various specimens indeed. I'd bet that's where they'd leave anything they deemed dangerous until it could be dealt with, including the tidbits of technology and other artifacts which the Elorai'isin might be looking for. Now, whether we could get in there or not is another matter..."

"Sounds as good as anything else," Tarna replied. "I can't think of any good reason why a 'decontamination' area would be _too_ restricted, anyway... after all, what if someone needed to use it? Well, in theory at least. Unless they were like some paranoid dystopian empire or something..."

"Depends on what they've got stored there," Melaran shrugged and set their destination for the nearest transit station to that point. "As good a place to start as any though. Have to see about gaining further access somewhere along the way, if we're going to get rid of the Bolo though."

The car moved into motion with barely a hitch, speeding quickly through darkened tunnels.

"I rather don't think 'getting rid of' is all that much of an option, myself," Tarna replied. "I mean what the hell would we do, climb inside and try to blow it up or something? Really now. Sides, that'd be mean, it was nice... when it wasn't shooting at us..."

"Considering the human paranoia they've displayed here," Melaran replied, "It wouldn't surprise me in the least to find a system in place to do just that in case it went rogue or something. But..." he paused, thinking it over for a moment, "You're right in a way, too. Can you imagine what it would be like to have _no_ contact for ten thousand years? At least the Elorai'isin nodes had their exhibits to look after."

"Maybe we could find some way to convince it or something..." Tarna mused. "I dunno. I certainly wouldn't call it exactly _demonic_..."

"I'll have to take your word on that." Melaran smirked. "All _I've_ seen of it was when it was firing at us or something else, so my judgment may be a little pre-disposed toward destroying it if possible. You seem to have seen something else in it, though, so..." He shrugged, a flicker of fondness passing across the link as the miles flash past and they near their destination.

"Do recall that it did heal you back there," Tarna reminded him gently, glancing down at the terminal absently.

"I'm trying to forget that," Melaran replied dryly, though it was clear that her point had been taken and noted even if reservations remained.

Deceleration could be faintly felt as they neared the next transit station and a lighted chamber similar to the one they'd recently left opened up around them. Taking a final look at the map, Melaran headed out of the car and onto the platform, looking at the corridors that opened out from the room.

Tarna climbed out after him and peered about the area. "Well, let's see what we have here then, shall we?"

"Down this way," Melaran gestured to one of the corridors and headed in that direction, the maze of corridors which opened up along the way something which would doubtless be easy to get lost in without the recent map reference. The corridor leading to their destination dead ended at a heavy door with solid block lettering labeling its purpose and a strip of yellow and black diagonal stripes denoting caution.

Tarna turned and followed after him, glancing up at the sign with a bit of a smirk and heading on, in spite of the apparent emptiness of the place still cautious about anything jumping out and attacking them, like automated defense systems or bizarre mutant ooze.

Nothing leapt out to devour them, the lighting far too brilliant to provide suitable hunting grounds for the ever fearful grue. The door opened readily enough, and revealed a vast, dimly lit chamber with various partial subdivisions and temporary walls scattered throughout. If there had ever been a need to deal with biological specimens, that time was long past and all that remained were the various bits of technology's history.

Several of the stalls contained obvious war machines in varying states of destruction, their original form often difficult to discern through the massive damage which was likely caused by weapons borne by Bolos. A smaller section to one side contained even more esoteric bits of technology from unknown sources, though some was clearly of similar design philosophy to the Eldar. Perhaps the most impressive of the objects to be found wasn't really recognized until they near the far end of the chamber, the sheer mass of the thing not registering as anything other than another part of the architecture at first.

"A titan?" Melaran tepped with quiet shock, looking up and up along the sleek curves of its design, the machine towering above them.

"What?" Tarna wondered, peering over in that direction curiously. "Hmm... Guess they _are_ the paranoid dystopian sort."

"I have to wonder _what_ they were planning to _do_ with all of this," Melaran tepped, waving to encompass the various war machines and historical detritus, "I can't see them having left it here to study or take apart, why put it in such an isolated place? But then I can't imagine them putting _this_ ," he gestured with bewilderment to the elegant Elorai'isin titan, "out as a display at a _zoo_."

"Hmm... Perhaps this place was intended as something more than a zoo?" Tarna conjectured. "That's already in evidence... Abyss, they wouldn't have needed something like that Bolo to defend a zoo, either..."

"No clue," Melaran replied, shaking his head and then looking back up at the graceful war machine once more before turning away. "Well, at least we know we're in the right place for one thing, anyway," he added, walking quietly among the rows of machinery and alien artifacts.

"Now, I just hope we don't suddenly run into any defenses that decide to spring up and attempt to vaporize us or anything," Tarna commented, going along and examining the inventory as well.

No indication was found of defensive systems within the chamber, perhaps the designers not deeming the majority of the base as needing the systems that would really only help if their primary defenses were already breached. That point, were it reached, would mean destruction regardless, so perhaps not so inconceivable as might be expected. The rest of the war machines are clearly non-functional, only the titan appearing completely unscarred.

Other items to be found include objects of bizarre design and no clear purpose which were set beside obvious weapons with designs set for non-human physiologies. The miscellaneous collection appeared to be categorized by race, however, which made finding the section devoted to the Elorai'isin quite simple. There was quite a sampling available to examine, ranging from half-familiar weapon designs to softly glowing artifacts. Jewelry and similar items were also apparent, though whether there was any power inherent to them wasn't immediately clear without a closer examination.

Tarna gave the items a good look-over, thinking, "Hmm, neat." She picked up one experimentally and peered about just to make sure nothing immediately decided to smite her or anything.

Were Bob watching, he'd probably be snickering at the moment and perhaps sneak up behind Tarna with a paper bag to explode and scare the hell out of her. Fortunately, he was either not watching or not feeling prone to temptation, and neither was anything else as nothing happened when she picks up the delicately crafted half-foot long cylinder with a crystal set at each end. This didn't especially ease Tarna's mind overmuch, examining it in some attempt to determine what the heck it was.

"Well, I guess nothing's going to eat us in here just now, so it would seem," she commented to Melaran.

"So it would seem," Melaran replied dryly, having watched her brash action with quiet disbelief and faint exasperation. He walked over to take a look as well, easily classifying a number of them as weapons which weren't immediately obvious, including that which she held. "Remember the affinity with mental controls," he prodded Tarna lightly, "But don't stand in the way of the crystals, hmm?"

Tarna smirked faintly and replied, "Heh, right. Well, since nothing seems about ready to blow up in our faces..." She went to proceed to collect up whatever in reach looked relatively intact, interesting, useful, and shove it blithely in her bag.

Melaran chuckled and went to follow her example, not sure offhand what the Eldest might find useful among the assortment of trinkets that were available. Fortunately for them, the only thing that wasn't readily stowed away was the titan, for which Melaran was quietly regretful as they finish clearing things out.

"Too bad," he tepped lightly, turning to look up at the thing once more. "Pity to let a work of the art of war go to waste."

Once she finished clearing up whatever looked interesting or shiny, she went over to look at it pensively. "No, I don't think it would fit through the lip of my bag. It's not elastic enough for that. Pity I don't have one of the super-stretchy ones, those things can hold entire spaceships. You should see some of the things Suzcecoz pulled out of her bag."

"And I don't suppose the Bolo would take kindly to us walking it out of here," Melaran replied, chuckling. "If it's even still functional at all, though if similar constructs of the Eldar are any comparison it should be for a lot longer than it's been here in storage. Ah well," he sighed, then turned deliberately away from it to look at her with a raised brow. "Anything else look of interest, or are we headed somewhere else?"

"Well, either way, I don't imagine it's going anywhere if we decide to come back for it later, eh?" Tarna replied with a bit of a smirk.

She turned back toward where they came in, glancing at other things along the way. The other technology was utterly alien to them, of no similarity to anything that they'd seen, though one section appeared to be dedicated to half-complete designs... or machinery that was intended to be grafted onto or replace parts of organic constructs. Tarna had seen quite a lot of things in her time, although generally while she was being shot at by things and not exactly having sufficient time to examine things in detail.

Tarna glanced over it regardless, thinking, "Hmmm, some interesting stuff here..."

The function of some pieces were clear enough as tools, and others as weapons, but the alien mindset of their design didn't lend itself to identifying even half of the devices present. Humanity was still puzzling about a great deal of it themselves, even though they'd seen much of it in use to one degree and another.

A flicker of memory stirred in Tarna's mind as they passed by the incomplete-seeming bits of technology, a world besieged by alien and incomprehensible beings and the horrors which followed. The aliens had set the populace to work, scavenging every last ounce of refined material from their homes and facilities... and salvaged their biological parts for their own use when the humans were no longer useful. She recalled being drawn toward a gaping mechanical maw, held tight within the grasp of a strong tentacle and force field down into its gullet where a table awaited. Sardill was indeed a cruel creature to visit such a curse, as dissection and harvesting of one's organs without the benefit of anesthetic was not a pleasant way to die.

Tarna blanched slightly and shoved the memory back into its closet and tepped, "Let's just go on..."

Melaran looked at her strangely for a moment, but did not press, merely nodding in reply as he headed for the door leading back out of the chamber. "Back to the transit station?" he asked with a deliberately light air. "There's still a lot of ground out there to take a look at, and maybe find an answer to our last little problem." Little indeed, he mused, the idea of calling that monstrous machine that was laughable.

"Sure thing, and maybe stop at the nearest vending machine to see if Pepsi keeps after ten thousand years, too," Tarna replied jokingly.

"Pepsi," Melaran replied, looking aside at her as they made their way back toward the station, "No, don't tell me, I probably don't want to know." He chuckled and shook his head. "I'm sure that we can find crew quarters and a mess hall easily enough, those were high on the list of locations on the map. Probably for just such an occasion."

"Certainly," Tarna replied. "Although they most likely only have spam and twinkies, anyway." She peered over at the screen absently.

Melaran just chuckled, not even going to ask as he was sure that he'd be faced by these oddities sooner or later while traveling together.

"Why don't they..." he began, searching the terminal's menu again a while later, then rolled his eyes as he crouched down to open a compartment underneath the console to take out two of a dozen or so pad-sized screens and pass one over to her, "Guess I should have asked the computer sooner."

The pads were likely stored all over the place for ease of access in event of loss or damage, functioning as portable map and terminal with a menu accessible through use of the stylus clipped to its side.

"Ah, of course," Tarna replied, giving it a bit of a look-over as they went.

Melaran settled into a seat in the transit car, examining the map thoughtfully on the datapad.

"Thirty mess halls, shouldn't be too difficult to keep up on food," he tepped dryly, tapping a nearby destination in to bring them near one. "Looks like they have all the comforts as well, gyms, recreation halls, theaters..." He shook his head, puzzled. "And never a soul assigned."

"Still doesn't make much sense eh," Tarna replied, peering over her own map somewhat some more. "Something _did_ obviously go severely wrong somewhere..."

"Space for fifty thousand people," Melaran replied, digging through more data as the car streaked from the light of the station into the darkened tunnel, and smirked as he continues, "and apparently they 'borrowed' some tech from the Elorai'isin, as there's a mention of no supplies requiring being shipped in from outside due to 'matter converters' to take care of food, fuel, and the like."

"Uh- _huh_ ", Tarna commented. "Wouldn't be surprised what else they might have 'borrowed' considering what else we've already seen around here... Hmm..."

"Certainly gives reason to consider them not having built this place at all," Melaran replied. "If the Elorai'isin were really as close to retreating into themselves as our hostess said, then it wouldn't surprise me in the least to see the humans capturing something like this intact."

He shook his head, standing as the car slowed and came to a stop at the next transit station on their trip.

"So it would appear. And from what that node said... yes..." Tarna mused, climbing out as it stopped and stretching a bit. "Third floor, lingerie, watermelons, feather dusters, kumquats..."

Melaran looked at her and smirked, clearly thinking of odd and unusual uses for the list of items she casually tossed out, then deliberately cleared his throat and donned an innocent expression as he walks out of the car. "Let's see," he tepped, consulting the datapad, "This way."

She gave a grin and a nod and went off that-away, ever cheerful and somewhat less paranoid at the apparent lack of things attempting to kill them in here. They found their way easily enough, and the cafeteria was entirely self-service with numerous screens set along the walls beside recessed spaces where an order would be produced. How utterly human, Melaran mused dryly, examining the devices and the clearly humanized interface as well as the strange, to him, list of items available.

"There's your Pepsi," he tepped bemusedly, having looked on a whim.

Tarna laughed aloud. "What, seriously?"

"Seriously," Melaran replied with a grin.

He gestured to the menu, then clicked on it to serve. The argument had raged forever what containers served best for the various colas, but apparently in this case the old-fashioned glass bottle had won out as one appeared with the familiar logo embossed on its side.

Tarna laughed some more and took it and looked it over as if expecting it to turn into a man-eating fungus or something, then just went to open it and take a drink. So the commercials lied, it wasn't going to turn someone instantly into a super-model or change their lifestyle with a single sip, but it _did_ taste just like she remembered it and fizzy as ever. Melaran just watched her for a moment with obvious amusement, then glanced to the menu again with a shake of his head.

"So not only are there humans here, it's yet another alternate Earth... Interesting," Tarna mused. "But ten thousand years!?"

"Ten thousand years and who knows how long before that," Melaran replied, giving up on the menu with a shrug even though he knew food would probably be good to replenish the body's reserves after his recovery. "The things that we've seen here were obviously a long time in the making," he continued, going to take a seat at one of the many empty metal tables nearby. "No telling what the humans were up to along the way."

"Should get something to eat too," Tarna commented. "And I'll take it you either didn't see anything you thought sounded good, or you couldn't figure out what any of the things are." She smirked.

"Err, yeah, something like that," Melaran replied, looking embarrassed, it wasn't that he couldn't identify quite a few of the items available but it was the ones he couldn't that had puzzled him enough that he'd decided to give up on it. "Anyway," he gathered his remaining shreds of dignity and continued, "The Eldest said something about fighting with them two time before this, so..." He shrugged.

Tarna chuckled gently at his confusion and replied, "Don't worry, how about a nice pizza or something. That sounds pretty good about now. Er, that's a sort of round bread thing with tomato sauce and cheese and meats and vegetables on top of it..."

"Whatever the lady desires," Melaran replied with a quirked grin and a bow of his head. "As it would seem yet again that I am at her mercy. One day I'll be familiar enough that it won't matter, but till then I suppose I can't complain at having such a winsome guide." He chuckled softly, the flattery nothing nearly so unfelt or flippant as it might sound.

Tarna chuckled again and proceeded to see about getting a nice pizza out of the thing, perhaps one with pineapples, peppers, pepperoni, and olives, then went over to him with it. Other than the interface, the process was quite similar to other replicators she'd encountered in the past and was quite flexible in what it could provide.

Melaran perked with some interest as she brought the odd concoction over, hungry despite having eaten well not too terribly long ago. His injury, he soothed himself, though just as likely that he was growing soft compared to his days among the Eldar. He chuckled and dismissed the muse, availing himself of a slice and taking an experimental and approving bite.

"Not bad," he tepped lightly and shrugged, "and probably a good idea. Energy to keep us going while we figure out what to do about that infernal machine... I wonder what information might be found about it in the control center records, and how to gain access?"

Tarna nibbled on a slice herself and tepped, "Could probably find at least _some_ information, although I doubt I have the 'leet haxor' skills to, say, make it think I'm supposed to be its commander or something..."

"That would probably take a lot of doing," Melaran agreed, "and not something to even think of trying other than as a last resort. I don't even want to think about what it might do if it decided we weren't just friendly, lost humans." He didn't really have to think about it, knowing that it would probably be as quick and clean a death as possible... still. "Probably our next stop, though, unless you can think of somewhere else?"

"It's a start, yes. Well, technically the 'start' we already started, so it's 'something else' or... something..." Tarna smirked and licked a bit of tomato sauce off her fingers.

"Unless you want to laze about a bit," Melaran replied a bit wistfully, grinning, "It's not like we ever got much of that vacation Bob promised us..."

A forlorn hope, and mostly a jest, but he couldn't help mentioning the idea. He had to admit that even if the setting was quite strange, they were safe and well supplied and had ample access to entertainments of various sorts. Besides, there was always the Bolo, ergh.

"Nah... We have an Important Mission to do! I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to take our time about it and find out everything we can before jumping into things blindly that might just start shooting at us, eh? Wait... hmm..."

Melaran laughed, then coughed as he swallowed the wrong way and had to clear his throat. "You're impossible," he tepped lightly, regaining his breath with a final cough. "Oh fine then, it's not like I'd want to spend a vacation looking like this anyway." He trailed off with a chuckle, polishing off the slice and going for another with considerable energy.

"Careful there, choking is bad for you, and stuff of that nature," Tarna tepped. "Sides, I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to relax once this is done with, unless some deities are amusing themselves with us again or something..."

"Shhh!" Melaran tepped with mock urgency. "You never know who's listening and might pop out of the woodwork. No telling if there's a Shazmar or Bob in this universe either, and I really, really don't want to find out." Oh no, that would _not_ make his day.

Tarna giggled uncontrollably and reached for another slice of pizza mirthfully. "Yes, yes, once we're finished eating, we'll go looking for stuff eh?"

"Yes, one disaster at a time," Melaran grinned.

He returned to the meal with lighter spirit and hearty appetite. Between the two of them, the interlude is cut short enough as the food vanished in quick order.

"Hmm," he mused, taking out the datapad and digging through the menus. "Now where would they hide this mystical land of great and mighty powers?"

"Probably in the great and mighty land of things to shoot at people who aren't supposed to be there," Tarna replied cheerfully.

"You are entirely too easygoing about getting shot at, m'lady," Melaran grumped, glaring at her briefly before returning to his look at the map. "It's probably labeled something completely ridiculous that the humans would recognize and I wouldn't have a clue..." He thought about that a second, then shrugged and looks for weird names.

Tarna pulled hers out and took a good look over it as well, thinking she might spot something that he'd miss. After all, if he didn't know what pizza was, eh...

Between the two of them, they located what was a likely culprit labeled as C3, which a little digging through the menus revealed to be defined as Command-Control-Communications.

"Humans, ugh," Melaran snorted, shaking his head as he stood. "I've never seen such a vexing and confusing race, determined to spread chaos wherever they go." He glanced over to Tarna and grinned. "Present company _not_ excepted."

Tarna sniggered softly and did her best to look utterly innocent. "What d'you wanna bet the place is well defended and requires some sort of key code or retinal scan or something just to get in in the first place? They certainly aren't going to make this convenient for us, right?"

"Oh the gods forfend that something be simple and uncomplicated," Melaran rolled his eyes and smirked. "And no, I doubt it's going to be that easy, but I can surely hope."

He double-checked the map, then headed back in the direction of the transit station, their destination would be a good fifteen minutes away even by the speedy little hovercar. Tarna went along with him and settled in, fully expecting them to get there and, at best, be denied access and, at worst, to be shot at.


	12. Victorious

The trip was uneventful, though the station they pull into was somewhat different that what they'd seen before. A yellow line marked a small area around the exit of the hovercar on the platform, and pylons bristling with lethal-looking barrels were situated in the four corners.

"Well, I think that answers that," Melaran tepped dryly, standing to take a look through the window and considering it.

"Yep," Tarna replied, her mental voice dripping with not-surprise. "They definitely want to defend this place, eh."

"What, not going to leap out without a care?" Melaran tepped teasingly, though definitely watchful in the event that she _did_ do something like that. She was nothing if not a surprise to him at times.

"Now, now. I'm adventurous, not suicidal. Is there any indication of whether or not they'll shoot at us of we do? Some warning or something somewhere?" She peered about for a sign or something.

"Nothing immediately apparent," Melaran replied, adding his own eyes to the task. "Whether they have some sort of automated system to warn is another question entirely... though I'd think that yellow line would indicate there has to be _something_ that would wait before opening fire. I hope. Provided it's not defective, broken, or otherwise murderous."

"Feel like throwing a hat over across at them and seeing if they vaporize it?" Tarna commented jokingly.

"Not particularly," Melaran replied dryly, "Since that might be seen as a hostile action which would void little things like otherwise safe zones." He hmmed thoughtfully, considering the problem, then shrugged and went to open the door. "Only one way to find out, though I think I'll move nice and slow so as not to startle anything."

Tarna climbed out as well cautiously, looking nervously toward the weaponry a bit. "Right, we're just sweet and innocent little visitors, yes... Nothing worth shooting at... uh-huh..."

Melaran chuckled softly at her, though not without a bit of nervous attention directed toward the pylons as he stopped well beyond the boundary of the line. The barrels quested in their direction, but were otherwise quiet. A voice familiar to Tarna chuckled with quiet humor over the speakers that would normally demand identification and provide the mechanical means to confirm it.

"Welcome to the command center, Tarna Tanson," came the light female voice of the Bolo. "As I expected you to seek out the communication medium I mentioned before, I have entered you and your companion in the Outpost computer system with a security clearance appropriate for gaining access to that facility. Do not fear the automated systems. They will not turn hostile so long as you remain within acceptable areas to that clearance."

Tarna relaxed somewhat at that and said, "Ah, thank you, I did not fancy too much getting shot at again."

"No worries," Victorious replied genially. "It would not have been sensible to relay that information and not provide the means to attain it. All is clear and calm at the moment, however, and I will leave you to your explorations." The voice fell silent, and while the guns continued to track their movements they didn't show any inclination to fire just now.

"I'd feel somewhat guilty about that," Melaran tepped softly, glancing upward at the source of the voice for a moment, then shaking his head as he stepped across the yellow line without incident.

"Why?" Tarna replied, heading in that way with him.

"It certainly seems to be helpful and accommodating," Melaran replied, crossing the chamber to the single door that led out from it to a long hall beyond, "and here we are working for someone that hated its creators, and ultimately looking for a way to neutralize it. That's..." he trailed off and sighed.

"Well, it's hardly its fault its creators were assholes," Tarna sent back, sighing a bit. "Let's see what we can see without getting shot at shall we?"

"Yeah..." Melaran replied, wondering when the hell the universe had decided to make the machines of this place more likeable than the people who made them, for the most part.

There were no side passages, and they passed through a number of security checkpoints without a slip or hesitation, Victorious clearly having been good to her word on that. They came to the command center after a bit, the temperature considerably cooler in here as air conditioning hummed quietly in the background, interspersed with the occasional ding and chirp of the consoles and other machines that lined the walls.

"Hmm,"' Tarna hmmed mentally, looking around the place tentatively. "Well, I'd say it looks like a control center... Imagine that, eh?"

"You're the human expert," Melaran prodded, grinning. "So make with the all-seeing, all-encompassing wisdom of your race to figure out what we need to look at here."

At the time of the Outpost's construction, the days of separate sections for the various command interfaces were obsolete. Communications, logistics, command... all of them could be handled from nearly any terminal, with minor exceptions. That one exception would be a bank of computers that was set against the far wall with a secure terminal nestled into its side. The material that the cases are made of looked remarkably like the blued metal of the Bolo...

"Hmm, interesting," Tarna mused. "What do you suppose..."

"What exactly did our guardian give you permission to do?" Melaran asked. "Precisely. We're talking about a machine, there may be a way to circumvent any complaints that might arise, or stumble across pitfalls without recognizing them."

She telepathically sent him the exact conversation which they had. "Still, machine or no, I feel like that's something more than a mere machine..."

Looking back over the conversation, Melaran made a face and nodded. "Agreed, and it was pretty damned vague about what could be done, especially with the unspecified rank we were assigned just to access this place. I think that machine's thinking waaaay outside what its creators might have originally intended."

"So... I suppose we should just see what we can see, eh? At least, hell, we can damned well rightly plead ignorance if it matters, eh?"

"And human curiosity." Melaran chuckled, his own curiosity drawn by the oddity of the terminal at the far end of the room but not willing to tempt fate _quite_ that far yet. He crossed to sit at one of the normal duty terminals and started to take a look at what might be found.

Tarna picked one close to him and likewise started poking around. "Since we are, of course, just harmless visitors with absolutely no ulterior motive... and it's not like the humans in this galaxy are likely to come back anytime soon anyway..."

Tarna found a bit more than she might have bargained for as she poked around, the system logs having recorded a vast amount of data over the millennia and skimming past the routine brought her to an interestingly busy period. Scanning over them, she found that indeed the war the Eldest had spoken of occurred and had gotten progressively more bitter and bloody with the passage of time.

Messages became more scarce and scattered by location and timestamp, the apparent name of the Hegemony changing several times throughout and different broadcasters proclaiming command. A flurry of traffic ensues in the wake of a transmission initiating something titled Project Ragnarok, though they were ever more garbled and scattered still with the passage of time until... silence.

Her inspection also revealed something else, that the Outpost database was supposedly separate and secure from the mainframe that acted as a failsafe for the Bolo in event that it were to go rogue, which suggested a few things to her... First, it was quite likely that the machine knew nothing of events that have transpired, though it might have guessed from its own lack of communication with outside authority. The second point was a bit more puzzling, and might seem to contradict the first to a degree... if the two were truly separated, how did they gain access to this center?

"Hmm..." Tarna hmmed, reading over the data. "Curiouser and curiouser..." She relayed that over to Melaran and asked, "What're you getting over there?"

"Nothing nearly so interesting," Melaran replied. "Mostly digging through ages of protocols, history, etc. Even a reference to something that could be used to disable the Bolo..." that was edged with uncertainty and a hint of distaste, but he continued, "There's something called a TSORP, Total Systems Override Protocol, also called the Omega Worm. Apparently it could melt its core, and the means to do it is here," he finished quietly.

"I wouldn't really want to do that except as a last resort..." Tarna replied. "There must be some alternative, right?"

"I'd like to think so," Melaran replied. "Though what it is I can't even begin to guess at the moment." He sighed and returned to the task at hand, though showed a bit of interest as he ran across a subdirectory. "Here now, what's this?" Activating one of the files within at random, the main screen lit up and began replaying archived footage from the Elorai'isin/Hegemony war. "To edit?" he looked at it oddly.

"Edit? What?" Tarna wondered, not getting his meaning, looking over at it and raising an eyebrow.

The footage was extremely dramatic, apparently a battle between one of the Elorai'isin titans and a group of Bolos, most likely recorded by one of them. Bolos rained fire from their main cannons on the titan, but between its shields and armor it seemed to have little effect and it swept through them like a scythe through wheat. That changed as the Bolos adapted their tactics, however, focusing all fire on _one_ spot simultaneously. It wasn't instantaneous but the mites dragged down the behemoth through their actions, yet clearly not without price as there was a brilliant flash from the crumbling titan and the recording ended suddenly in a flurry of static.

"What in the world..." Melaran blinked, checking the other files and finding that they contained similarly dramatic battles with various alien species.

Tarna watched, frowning, making a quiet mental commentary upon humans' lust for warfare. Perhaps they had perceived it necessary, but more likely she thought the humans were merely attempting to assert themselves over the galaxy violently.

Melaran's reaction wasn't nearly so judgmental, having arisen in a society that was dedicated to the necessities of survival at any cost... but the question ever remained what that price meant when the dark hours of that society fell upon it. Was it truly worth it in the end? Or was it merely more footage for a damned museum? He shook his head, closing out the directory and the screen returned to blank.

Tarna sighed softly and stared off. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just fortunate, having grown up somewhere pretty peaceful, even if it was a sort of enforced peace... But even the Elkandu's wars were generally brief and with little collateral damage..."

While Elkandu generally didn't care much for the lives of mensch, most generally didn't go out of their way to kill them, instead preferring to target specifically their enemies.

"It looks like the humans here weren't too concerned about that at the end, or even before then," Melaran replied disdainfully, pushing away from the terminal and standing.

The Eldar might be a violent and unforgiving race, but to stoop so low as the slaughter of worlds with no reason? Insanity beyond the reaches of Chaos! He turned to pacing to burn off the heat of anger that rose at the train of thought.

"Alright," he continued, "Back to more practical matters. We know that this Bolo... Victorious, is acting outside normal parameters. There's no way that a society who would make something like the Omega Worm _standard_ would allow anywhere _near_ that kind of adaptability or initiative. What does that leave us with?"

"I would guess that it's acting beyond its normal limitations and is very likely borderline rogue after ten thousand years of isolation here without any updates... I wonder if it really knows what happened out there, some way or another..."

"Considering what you found in the computer, and the supposed separation of the systems..." Melaran shrugged. "Either it knows and shut it off to preserve stability, or it very deliberately avoided anything beyond what was needed to achieve the goal it had set for itself. I could see it going either way, especially considering we're the first humans it's seen in a really long time."

"I have to wonder what sort of safeguards they might have put in in the event that they all died or something and the place was left abandoned... but knowing humans they may well have been so arrogant as to never consider the possibility, or just set it all to self-destruct or something lame like that."

"No," Melaran replied thoughtfully, looking over at the odd terminal. "That's a very good question. I can't believe that they never had a single Bolo that wasn't lost in all the time they'd used them. What happens when their commander is killed and command authority is unavailable? These humans would have accounted for that, somehow, but how and what?"

"Well, we can suffice it to say that this place could very likely kill us very quickly if we screw up too badly, but that was a given. There has to be something..."

"We could ask it... her," Melaran replied quietly, mind turning the details of what they already knew and had experienced since arriving in this sector. "Even if she refuses to answer, she can't exactly blame us for looking into the computer that she'd given us access to and finding what happened. Not that there isn't a danger in that, if she already knows and is unstable..."

"Well, we can only hope that it's a friendly, easily impressionable, likely to do what we want and not kill us sort of unstable..."

"Therein lies the potential danger," Melaran replied with a grim chuckle. "Though perhaps less so than trying our hand at the shiny armored terminal over there and being determined as hostile for it."

"Fair enough," Tarna admitted, sighing softly. "It's the closest thing we have to a lead around here anyhow, really..."

Melaran returned to the terminal he'd been at and dug through to find the files regarding TSORP again. "Wouldn't be wise to do it without a backup plan. The directions and protocols are simple enough, I'll set it up and get it ready... just in case."

"Assuming it can't somehow notice that and think _that's_ a hostile action, too," Tarna commented, ever paranoid and pessimistic.

"All it requires at this point is a single keystroke," Melaran replied quietly, "I will execute her if it's needed. It's not like you don't have a better take on the best way to approach the female mind on this sort of thing, right?"

Tarna sighed, staring at the ground. "If it proves necessary..."

Melaran offered gentle emotional support, then gently prodded, "There's not much reason to put it off, m'lady. May as well communicate and see what can be done."

Tarna replied, "I guess..." She said aloud nervously, "Er, hello? Can you hear me, Victorious?"

"Of course, Tarna Tanson," came the immediate reply, "I have been monitoring your well-being with a subroutine since returning to active patrol. How may I be of assistance?"

"What do you know of what has happened outside this sphere since you were stationed here?" Tarna asked.

"I have received no reports of activities beyond this station since my assignment," Victorious replied. "Nor any opportunity to file a VSR with my commanding officer or other authority. Normally this would not be too highly unusual, but the substantial time which has passed has left me cause for concern."

"Yeah, about that..." Tarna said with a sigh. "I don't really think you're going to get one, either, honestly..."

"Please clarify," Victorious replied. "All channels of communication have been unresponsive, including the Dinochrome Brigade network. I have hypothesized scenarios to account for this and assigned probabilities to them, but confirmation would be most helpful."

Tarna sighed again and slowly explained all she knew of what happened outside in the intervening period.

"It is unfortunate that my highest ranking probability, on the order of niner six point two two seven proved to be the correct outcome," Victorious replied, though there's a strange hint of melancholy that the bland words did nothing to dispel. "I thank you for the updated situation report, Tarna Tanson, and regret only that I will have failed in my duty in returning you to safety beyond this facility."

"What would be the usual method for leaving this facility under normal circumstances?" Tarna asked.

"A craft would be dispatched from Control Central, located on the world orbiting this facility's star," Victorious replied. "Unfortunately, that channel of communication is also unavailable at this time."

"And what would this craft do?" Tarna wondered. "There must be some sort of teleportation system, damaged or not..."

"Control Central has access to a gateway which allows passage through the flux fields which are otherwise locked into the maintenance and usage of this sphere's operational needs," Victorious replied. "The theory surrounding the recently acquired technology is still... was still quite vague at my assignment here."

Tarna pondered thoughtfully. "So if I understand correctly, the sphere is maintained directly utilizing energy from the Ethereal Plane?"

"Cross-referencing the term to ancient and often disregarded texts," Victorious replied, "that would be an appropriate description of the basic system specifications."

"Hmm..." Tarna mused. "You may yet be able to help us, I think..."

"As the last remaining members of humanity aboard this sphere," Victorious replied softly, "and likely within a radius of several hundred lightyears, I will gladly do whatever I may to assist you so long as it does not contradict the Hegemony Central Command orders I received when stationed here."

"What were those?" Tarna wondered.

"To hold until relieved," Victorious replied simply, adding no further explanation as none was required from her perspective. The Dinochrome Brigade had taken great pride throughout the ages in obeying its orders to the last, the ancient Terran saying of 'Death before dishonor' was meaningless to them... how could it be any other way?

"...well, that's not going to happen. So you're just going to stay here indefinitely then?"

"It is nearly impossible to exterminate a spacefaring race, Tarna Tanson, even at their own hands," Victorious replied quietly. "If I must wait until my fusion core decays to see their rise once more, then I shall do so. To do anything less would dishonor the Brigade."

"Well, there might not be many around here, but there were sure plenty still where I came from... It was... another universe, effectively, another dimension, another timeline, where different things happened. There was the same Earth, that humans set out from over ten thousand years ago and colonized other planets..."

"To see once more the fire of the human race, to marvel at their ingenuity and baffle at their mistakes..." Victorious replied. "This would be a truly worthy sight to behold, yet without a countermanding order from my designated commander the last compels my diligence at this station. It is unlikely that a commander will be designated, as the means to do so are held solely within my duty station's interface. That interface may only be accessed by said commander, or the designated commander of this station with the codes encrypted to their eyes only."

A great deal more information than was required, something perhaps to give pause for thought...

"So I take it they never took into account the possibility of something like this happening," Tarna mused aloud.

"Contingencies were laid," Victorious countered. "If not for this situation specifically, but they entail human intervention and discretion to resolve."

"Like what?" Tarna wondered, attempting to inquire further in some hopes of finding a way to resolve this.

"Wait..."' Melaran tepped. 'Think Eldar for a moment, m'lady. I think yon machine just gave us the keys if she did what I think she did. Let me look at the personnel rosters... Oh that sly, tricky little thing, I'd give her an edge against any Farseer when it comes to slippery logic. Tarna, in order for her to get us in _here_ , we had to be placed on the list as official personnel and have sufficient authority to get in here. With no one else around to gainsay her, she made _you_ the senior officer of this base, which means..." He trailed off and dug through the files some more, looking for something the machine had mentioned.

"I am not authorized to reveal contingencies emplaced by the commanding authority of the Dinochrome Brigade," Victorious replied primly.

Tarna looked over Melaran's shoulder, raising an eyebrow at what he's mentioning. "Do you suppose...?"

Melaran just grinned and poked a finger in the direction of the secured terminal, "I'll give you the access codes. They're all right here, I should have guessed when I found that damned worm so readily."

Tarna grinned faintly. "Good job. Let's see what we can manage, then?"

"Better than any other alternative by a long shot," Melaran agreed readily, meaning that even more now than before after seeing the 'machine' in action himself. Oh, how he'd hate to play a game of strategy against her. He chuckled quietly, scrolling through to find the exact sections that were relevant to what they needed to do.

Tarna rocked on her heels and watched and waited for him to find that, and likewise reminded herself never to play chess against this Bolo. Never mind the fact that she was terrible at chess anyway.

Melaran grinned over at her. "We have all that we need, go ahead and I'll read off the code to you. Once you've gain access to that system and are identified, there are verbal passwords to connect directly to Victorious herself."

He waited till she was ready at the secure terminal to relay the necessary code. Tarna nodded and goes over and proceeded to do as he instructed, mildly nervous about the entire business but considerably more relaxed about it all than when they came in here at least.

Identification verified with the terminal, Melaran proceeded to relay the next and final portion of the sequence to Tarna. "Apparently, the access code and unit signifier is 'Vicky',' he teps, 'And the password is... 'Prometheus'. She should acknowledge the signifier verbally, and the password will complete the circuit."

Tarna was highly amused at that, but restrained herself from laughing aloud, simply doing so without further comment.

"Yes, Tarna Tanson?" Victorious replied instantly as soon as she was addressed as Vicky, a low-lying note of anticipation in her tone. That note becomes brighter as the password was spoken, and she continued, "What are your orders, Commander?"

Tarna leaned over and gave Melaran a kiss, then said, "What is the overall status of this facility?"

Melaran just grinned, reaching around her waist to give a hug before returning to studying at the terminal.

Vicky replied promptly, "The Outpost is operating within niner eight point three six seven percent optimal range of specified parameters. Sector commands report that the captured Enemy nodes have gone offline, however, which is a potentially dangerous situation if they are no longer maintaining the flux fields. Control Central remains within acceptable parameters as well, as far as remote sensor data has been able to detect, although I regret that I am unable to compute a probability of specific functionality with this limited data. D.O.G.M.A. is apparently disabled, and has been since nine point one three five standard years following establishment of this facility."

"'D.O.G.M.A.'? What's that?" Tarna wondered, mentally rolling her eyes in Melaran's direction at humans' insistence at making long acronyms that spell actual words.

"The Digital Oversight and General Management Assembly," Vicky replied, "a computer constructed to act as a multi-tasking entity in order to manage the various aspects of this sphere and the sub-nodes dedicated to preserving its integrity. Its basic architecture is similar to that used in the creation of the Bolo psychotronic systems, though without the hyper-heuristic capabilities necessary for Battle Reflex status."

"And I'll presume you were talking about the Elorai'isin nodes, correct?" Tarna asked.

"Correct," Vicky replied. "The nodes were captured from similar spheres in the Elorai'isin/Human war, their central processing matrices, and were placed as part of this installation which was found abandoned two point seven five eight centuries into the conflict."

Tarna pondered pensively, and said, "Hmm..."

"My apologies, Commander," Vicky said, "But I have detected multiple signatures appearing within the space of this sphere, the massive power signatures and numbers inconsistent with any known alien race and I would suggest a probability of less than six point zero zero five percent that this is not a hostile force. The leading edge of their fleet will arrive here in thirty point niner niner two minutes. What are your orders?"


	13. Battle!

"What?" Tarna said, blinking, wondering just where they came from. "Can I get a visual?" she replied, going to peer at the nearest in the off-chance that it might be something she recognized.

"Certainly," replied Victorious, shunting a visualization of the fleet to the main screen of the command center. The image began as a wide-shot angle which encompassed the entirety of the unknown fleet, flickers of light signifying newly arriving vessels from points unknown. Globe-shaped ships seemed to be the preferred design for the capital ships, varying greatly in size from cruiser to a single one that was nearly the size of a moon.

Thousands of smaller dots burst from a number of the ships which must be carriers of some sort, and the scan zoomed in to focus on a squadron of the needle-like craft. They ranged themselves out in groups of ten which streaked away from their motherships almost immediately and headed surface-side... the fleet seemed to be spreading its attention between the dark planet and the military sector. They've clearly detected something.

"The hell..." Tarna replied. "Where did they come from? How did they get here? Why _here_?" she asked rhetorically.

"Unknown, Commander," Vicky responded, a cloud of smaller signatures emerged from the small attack craft and screamed down toward the military Outpost and she continued, "Engaging missile countermeasures."

Other screens flickered to life as the Bolo fed more detailed information into the system and brought it fully alert. A base scanner displayed the Bolo rising on its anti-gravitic thrusters and belching forth a wave of counter-missiles and Hellbore fire to interdict the incoming fire. Thousands of them exploded, committing fratricide as nuclear fireballs speckled the sky.

"Estimated yield of one hundred kilotons," Vicky said calmly, ignoring the outlying missiles which would pose no threat to her designated station.

The only thing she could think was of the Elorai'isin, and if they might have some idea what the hell was going on and what to do about it. "Can you defend against this successfully?" she asked.

"I am not yet certain, Commander," Vicky replied, "Were they to stand off and continue missile fire then I calculate an eighty point six five nine percent probability that I could do so. I have no basis to calculate the efficacy of their fighter screen or capital ships at this time, however, and will not be aware of their potential capabilities for another twenty-eight point seven five six minutes."

A faint rumble could be felt through the very walls and floor of the command center as the missiles which were ignored impacted and detonated in the nearest sectors. One section of the sensor relays revealed a complete and utter annihilation of the affected areas.

Tarna stared at the damage and quietly uttered a few choice swear words. She glanced helplessly at Melaran and tepped, "Do you think you can contact them from here?"

"I'll try," Melaran replied grimly, the scale of devastation and utter lack of regard monstrous on a level that he associated with the most rabid of the Eldar's enemies. He went silent as he attempted to do so, searching for the mind of the Eldest or any other of the Elorai'isin that he could find.

Victorious remained at a height just short of leaving the atmosphere, engaging and destroying another wave of missiles that followed in the wake of the first. The results were much the same, the mind of the machine moving in terms of milliseconds and using its data to devastating effect on the Enemy munitions.

The scene became suddenly much more personal, however, as sirens sound a wailing, warning note throughout the Outpost complex, followed by a neutral voice broadcast. "Danger, base security and integrity has been breached. Intrusion has been detected in sectors A-5 through A-7, H-9 through H-11, and C-prime." Victorious interjected suddenly at that. "Commander, you must find shelter. C-prime is the entry to the command center."

"Bloody hell, where?" Tarna replied, briefly checking on the defense systems and glancing to Melaran, then casting about the vicinity for anyplace that might be relatively secure for the moment.

The security alert was easy to track down and focus on, a visual of their newest enemy coming up on one of the screens... it was a thin, vaguely humanoid creature seeming made of black and silver metals that devoured the bright light of the entryway, though the multitude of sharp protrusions and blades which emerged from its body glitter with malicious intent.

As she watched, the creature glided across the room, seemingly impervious to the constant stream of heavy fire directed at it from the turrets, and ripped one of the aggressive nodes from its mooring with a flex of metallic fibers and sparks. A moment later it blinked from view, the camera angle shifting as it reappeared near one of the other turrets and repeated the performance.

"I am returning, Commander," Victorious broadcast, "But you must make your way to an exit point that I may secure your safety."

The base had never been designed to accommodate her bulk, and unfortunately it didn't look like they'd considered a back door necessary at the very heart of the complex. The only way out was the way that they came in...

Tarna grabbed Melaran and said, "Come on, we've gotta go!" She swore a bit more and headed for the exit, pulling out the most effective weapon she could think of from her pocket in hopes of defending herself with.

Melaran wasn't about to argue with her on that, shaking his head and dispensing with the human guise in favor of the more agile and familiar Eldar form even as he drew a rifle from his own bag. He darted ahead of her, head tilting to listen as distant sounds of destruction may be heard.

"With luck, we can either kill or run like hell past it," he tepped tersely, checking a datapad map momentarily for the nearest 'exit point'.

Tarna threw up telekinetic shields around them hastily and went to make a break for the exit, praying briefly then wondering when precisely she became religious.

The sounds of destruction become much more immediate as they neared the last security checkpoint they'd had to pass on entering, clearly the creature taking the time to disable any security measures it found barring its path. A security blast door had slammed into place along the hall ahead of them, in front of the creature, but that didn't appear to be much of a problem to worry about as sharp blades sliced through and ripped it aside.

"Not good," Melaran tepped.

He looked down the hallway at the thing and the twin red pits of its eyes turning to focus on them as it began to lope forward with bladed arms held loosely at its sides. He mused that it was a good thing for the creature that the humans had built such high-ceilinged passageways, otherwise its ten foot or greater height would need to hunch over. 

"Run and dive," he added, opening fire on the creature to draw its attention for a moment. At least that worked admirably, though not reassuringly as it screeched hideously and ran forward.

Tarna proceeded to do so as well, taking a couple shots at the creature as she ran in the general direction of the exit and casting a telekinetic weave at it in an attempt to entangle it and hinder it from attacking them long enough to get out of there.

The creature paid no immediate attention to Tarna as she ducked and dodged past the lethal sweep of its blades, though her fire as she reached the other side certainly provided a sufficient distraction as Melaran moved to follow. He dove when near the creature and rolled past it, springing back to his feet on the other side to grab her arm as she finished the weave that held the creature at bay for a few brief moments.

Its distraction was only momentary, however, as it shredded the threads woven about it almost casually... but paid them no more heed as it turned and stalked in the direction of the command center even as they ran back along the hallways leading out.

Tarna was momentarily confused at that, but didn't argue her fortune and proceeded to head for the exit posthaste. "That can't be good..." Tarna thought.

"Probably not," Melaran agreed, but thinking along other lines as they made their way quickly through the twisting halls and the shattered wreckage which was all that remains of the security checkpoints. "Intruder alert and only one enemy? That can't be good either," he added grimly, ducking into the hovercar at their destination and setting its course for the nearest exit he'd found in the map.

Tarna settled in more or less, gun still in hand and ready to shoot at anything that so much as looked at her wrong. "I also hate to think what it wants to do in there..." Tarna said quietly. "I can only hope that it can't actually do much without any passwords or security clearance or anything..."

"Won't know til it happens," Melaran replied, not settling at ease at all and keeping an eye out the windows of the hovercar for any signs of their intruders. "Wish we'd had the time to initiate some kind of self-destruct, especially of the console connected to Vicky, but..." He shook his head, dismissing the irrelevant thought and turning to consideration of something a bit more practical.

"Have I mentioned that I hate vacations yet?" Tarna commented wryly. "Did you manage to contact the Elorai'isin?"

"We were sort of distracted," Melaran replied dryly, flashing a grin in her direction, but it fades quickly as he added, "I didn't catch even a hint of them, though, and considering the incredible range that the Eldest seemed to possess that worries me."

"I never really practiced much with long-distance telepathy either," Tarna admitted ruefully. "There were some Elkandu who could communicate across galaxies, even perform other remote magic... Suzcecoz could project illusions to other planets entirely..."

Melaran shook his head. "It's not that I couldn't reach the fake ones, I tried that just out of curiosity, but no hint of the Elorai'isin themselves could be found. I don't know." He moved to the door as light appears in the tunnel ahead of them, showing her his datapad. "Simple route to follow, the exit point is a hangar just like the one we came in through. I'll meet you outside in a bit."

"Meh, heavy dispersal wards or the like most likely," Tarna replied. "What are you going to do?"

"Just a thought," Melaran replied with a grin and ducked to kiss her as they slipped into the station. "Trust me." He drew away to open the doors and motions for her to exit. "That fleet's gotta be getting within range of full attack soon, hurry up and keep Vicky company."

Probably the safest damned place on this insane sphere, he'd wager, and that idea was just fine with him.

Tarna replied dryly, "'Trust me', famous last words. Be careful." But she did make for the exit, heading swiftly toward wherever Vicky might be found.

"Bet on it," Melaran tepped, offering a gentle reassurance to accompany the thought, then fell silent as the car closed and departed the station once more. The setup was exactly the same as the other transit station they'd entered through, the elevator leading them back to a hangar with scores of vehicles designated for human personnel in event of attack... too bad those people had never been assigned!

As Tarna emerged from the elevator, natural light filtered from the world outside as the giant bay doors rumbled open. Vicky glided in, power humming through reactive shielding and gravitic drives that could be felt even this far away. She took a shorter route this time, boosting _over_ the vehicles in her way and coming to rest near the loading dock to open a hatch.

"Please board, Commander. The Enemy is nearly upon us," she broadcast, then added. "Five point three six five minutes until first wave approaches within projected engagement envelope." There was nothing she could have done to project the possibility of the creatures invading the Outpost as they did, and she wasted no regret on it. "Gravitic sensors have analyzed the means they utilized to infiltrate the base. It is a method beyond the scope of my ability to counteract without further research and equipment, unfortunately."

Tarna didn't hesitate to get on board, although somewhat worried about Melaran and hoping that he knew what he's doing. "It's not your fault, certainly. But what can be done about it?"

"My shielding will be sufficient to deter them from manipulating the gravitic wavelengths necessary to appear within my hull," Vicky replied. "The Outpost was not equipped with such shielding upon its creation, and there is insufficient time available to convert existing installations to the purpose. Please proceed to the command couch and secure yourself, full combat maneuvers can be disruptive even within my cabin."

They were clearly already back outside and on the move, according to the screens which displayed a dazzling array of images and tactical data. "I would also suggest," Vicky continued, a hint of hesitancy in her tone, "Completing the neural interface network. It would enhance my combat efficiency by an estimated fifty point one niner seven percent... but is not without some measure of danger to you."

"Gravitic... wait, you mean some sort of teleportation?" Tarna blinked for a moment at the last and said, "Neural interface network? What do you mean? And how?"

"Please secure yourself, Commander, and I will explain," Vicky replied, a soft chuckle displaying quiet amusement. "The Enemy has developed a method by which they can distort the gravitational waves present in any solar and planetary system, utilizing the anomaly it creates to instantly transport from one point in space to another. Teleportation, in effect, though on a potentially cosmic level.

"What this may mean for their combat capabilities is not reassuring, but that particular aspect is at least nullified by the energy shielding which I was constructed with. If the Enemy's other systems are equally advanced, I estimate a thirty point one one percent probability that I will survive the first wave without assistance, rising to seventy-five point niner niner two percent within the parameters of the gestalt.

"That gestalt," she continued, "is achieved through the neural interface hardware incorporated into the command couch, and allows you as my Commander to partially merge with the psychotronic networks of my own awareness, allowing for the precision and millisecond timing available through my abilities and enhancing them with the inventiveness and ingenuity of the human component."

Tarna frowned at the description of their technology, and not for the first time wishing that the likes of Suzcecoz were present. "Er, okay then, how do I do that?" she asked.

"If you will allow it," Vicky replied, "Signify assent and relax in the command couch, the interface will be initiated at your assent. It may prove disconcerting for a few moments as your mind adjusts to the heightened awareness available to it through my own systems, but the sensation should pass quickly from past experience. I must warn you, however, that you will experience what I do, including the pain associated with damage."

Tarna proceeded to do as directed without any further question, and still hoping that Melaran was okay and knew what he was doing. She was not especially concerned about pain and the like. As Tarna relaxed into the confines of the command couch and straps secured themselves around her, a fogginess encroached on her mind and then sudden blankness for long, uncountable moments. That nothingness pulsed and shattered suddenly, returning her to the awareness of the status of the Bolo on a very personal level running the gamut from simple systems to the operational status of the weapon systems.

"Thank you, Commander," Vicky's thought merged with her own, tentative and almost shy for a moment. They were moving at a brisk pace, their engines thrumming with power and gravitic systems well within operational parameters to speed their travel. Efficiency and status indicators were all in the ninety-nine plus percentile range, and Tarna could feel Vicky's satisfaction at that.

Meanwhile, Melaran had waited for the longer journey that he'd undertaken from the command center, twitchy at each distant explosion that occurred and hopeful that the creature they'd left behind wouldn't be able to access things the way he feared it might. That seemingly endless journey came to a halt, though, and he leapt out of the car and ran through the halls he remembered visiting before.

There was way too much out there to leave it all to the guns of one machine, no matter how good it might be. He wouldn't gamble Tarna's life on that, and he ignored the black and yellow striped caution signs on the door to make his way swiftly inside. The Elorai'isin behemoth was right where it had been left, of course, and he approached it with grim purpose. No reason to let it remain unused, not when a call to war might set it free once again...

Tarna tried to calm herself, realizing that she was fairly well panicking, and get used to the strange feeling of this. What the hell kind of enemy were they facing, she wondered? They had to deal with this somehow, one way or another. Too much was at stake here.

"Do not worry, Commander," Vicky soothed gently. "I will allow no harm to come to you, and will eject the command couch should imminent destruction be likely. We will undoubtedly discover the nature of our Enemy soon enough."

The gestalt clearly went both ways, opening her mind to the Bolo even as it was open to her... a _very_ strange sensation, as the mind she encountered was quite vast and moves at a blurring speed.

Light glinted far above them, heralding the arrival of the sharp, throwing-dart shaped ships in their thousands. Tarna felt the weapons at their command turning to cover various arcs of the sky and open fire with deadly precision, Vicky's mind drawing her in and gentling her toward the battle which would soon enfold them. The mighty Hellbores and their lesser cousins ravaged the approaching swarms of fighters, but there were too many.

They broke off in their final approaches and scattered in a thousand different directions even as they continued to die in brilliant flashes. The vector and tracking data would be overwhelming, but the Bolo's mind shunted the sheer data flow away from Tarna and into its own consciousness to deal with, leaving her to command and direct their overall attack responses.

"I'm not worried," she replied quietly, finding that she trusted this Bolo a good deal more than the Elorai'isin for some reason. She didn't dwell on it for the moment, though, and calmed a good deal once she thought she figured out just what Melaran was up to. She turned her thoughts to observing the enemy and their behaviors, alert for some weakness that might be exploited.

Their Enemy, the capitalization clearly evident in the Bolo's thought processes, reacted nearly as quickly as Vicky herself might be able to without the additional benefit of the gestalt. As they moved swiftly from one location to another while dodging fire and returning it, the analytical aspects of her mind began to piece together complex but decidedly static patterns the ships attacked and responded with.

This data was a beacon of clarity to the Bolo, signifying that either the ships were controlled by limited AIs or outfitted with pre-programmed response packages rather than any colloidal intelligence or otherwise flexible mind behind them. An alert flashed at the periphery of their awareness, however, as the base relayed the opening of one of the hatches _not_ intended for general use.

That warning was perhaps the last one they'd receive, however, as the computer network went suddenly and ominously silent. Vicky remained alert and aware of their current battle, sending only a flicker of attention back in the direction of the original warning, and then drawing Tarna's attention to it with a flash of urgency as one of the old Enemy machines lumbered from its millennia-long confinement as though a leviathan from the sea...

Tarna, however, was considerably more elated at that sight, and insisted on classifying it as friendly. "It's Melaran, it has to be! That must have been what he went back for." She thought they had a fair chance at this all, all things considered, if they could hold out long enough.

Vicky wasn't so sure of that, but deferred to her Commander's designation until proven otherwise... and was forced to accept it begrudgingly as the massive machine spewed forth a swirling storm of lethal energies that swept the space immediately surrounding it in the first furious barrage.

"I told you to trust me," Melaran tepped with a chuckle, then was clearly surprised at the feel of another mind linked and listening.

It was no more a surprise to him than to the Bolo, however, and a flicker of inattention allowed one of the sharp craft to streak toward them and slice into the forward glacis of the tank in a self-destructive dive. 'Pain' flared even as damage warnings echoed and efficiency percentages dropped by a full ten percent, the ship driving through the Bolo's hull before exploding and causing extensive damage.

The Bolo slewed on its gravitic cushion, then slammed into the ground hard and recovered quickly to dart aside on the massive multi-directional treads. "My apologies, Commander," Vicky said with a measure of chagrin. "I..." she fell silent, but Tarna could catch darting bits of the confusion that was circulating through the psychotronic matrix even as Vicky continued to fight.

Tarna winced involuntarily and tepped to Melaran to cover them, and then attempted to explain briefly to Vicky, "Most of the people in my village had psychic abilities... telepathy, telekinesis, dreamwalking, and such."

"No, Commander," Vicky replied softly, the gestalt allowing for no dissembling or illusion, once it was looked for, but she commented no further on it as the matter of the battle at hand was far more important.

Melaran acknowledged the message, striding the mammoth machine forward and unleashing the full weight of standard fire available to it. There were oddities to the system he had not yet tested, though... The first wave of fighters was eradicated, the teamed effort of the two massive machines serving well to cleanse the skies of them. That left the remainder of the fleet in near-orbit, however, and Vicky turned the four massive barrels of her primary Hellbores in that direction.

"Shall I engage, Commander?"

Tarna was, of course, solely referring to herself and not Melaran in that, and was a little confused, as she hadn't really been attempting to deceive her, which would be kind of silly under the circumstances. She checked on the Bolo's status, assessing the damage that had been done.

"Commander, I am detecting activity within the Dinochrome Brigade network," Vicky stated flatly, a sudden surge of activity in her mind turning to tracking and analyzing the data. "It would be consistent with access to the mainframe installed at the Outpost for use by the base commander, I..." she stuttered and halted. "I..."

Tarna remained within the gestalt, but she felt a searing cold shield fold itself suddenly around her. It sealed her away from the mind of the Bolo, though she could watch as the turrets turn with a snake-like whip toward the Elorai'isin titan and release a torrent of destructive energies that sent its unsuspecting pilot reeling along with the machine he was guiding.

"Oh, bloody hell," Tarna said, then tepped frantically to Melaran to tell him to get out of the way and destroy the command center if at all possible, then tried to wrest control of the Bolo somehow from the invaders by any means necessary.

The burning cold of the shield was flawless and seemingly without a weak point as Tarna frantically searched, the Bolo continuing to fire on the titan and apparently having some effect beyond what the earlier versions of its kind had been capable of. She wasn't even sure if the mental message she'd sent out had been received, the disassociation enforced by the shield allowing for little clue.

Whether it did or not, the titan ignored the rampage of the smaller machine, only the brightening of the shields surrounding it coming as a reply to the increasingly violent storm of fire. Light flashed from the cannon arms of the giant walker, smashing into the ground nearby as Melaran probes from memory for the location of the command center they'd left in the hands of the alien creature.

Tarna was damned well going to be reaching for anything at her disposal and not just beating her head against a wall uselessly. Even to the point of trying Mind or Dream Magic just to see if it helped or not. But the shield seemed impervious to anything which was thrown at it, reacting with a speed similar to what the Bolo itself was capable of, and Tarna was reminded of the quick ease with which the creature had shrugged aside her earlier telekinetic attempt to entangle it. Vicky continued to fire at the titan, though the improved shielding glowing around it seemed to shrug off the energies and even regenerating some of the damage taken.

Ships descended from orbit at high speeds, and thousands of the creatures they'd already seen materialized suddenly along the flat and rolling landscape of the sector, a rolling wave of destruction intent on removing the two threats to them. That threat redoubled suddenly, as Melaran had ignored the incoming ships in favor of continuing fire into the base, and the shield vanished abruptly as greasy fire boils from the ground.

"Oh bloody hell, damnit. Vicky!" Tarna pleaded frantically, casting about for something with which to try to do something. It was a poor Elkandu who tried to solve everything with random brute force, battering uselessly at things that clearly weren't working. But she knew of few things that could defend against Dream Magic, but considering what she had experienced earlier with it it didn't seem much of an option.

As the command center was destroyed, and the invading creature with it, Tarna's mind is re-integrated fully with that of the Bolo and she could sense the frantic awareness of just _what_ Vicky was doing to try and stop the alien from controlling her systems. Relief and a clarion note of joy resounded as she recognized the return of her Commander, and the machine went suddenly still as weapons turn deliberately away from their ally.

The swarm of alien creatures remained, however, and they surged forward with single-minded purpose to seek to rend the mammoths standing in their path. A dedication which proved suicidal, as both machines return fire and obliterated broad swaths of the horde with no fear to themselves... leaving one to wonder what, precisely, passed for thoughts with the creatures.

Tarna was likewise relieved and calmed herself again, resorting to use her own telepathic/empathic abilities to control her emotions by this point. Her attention returning to the battle with seeming hardly a moment to relax, she thought, "Are they still coming into the sphere?"

"Negative, Commander," Vicky replied. "No additional units have been detected entering the sphere's space in the last twenty-two point ninerniner five minutes."

Melaran, meanwhile, was not constrained by certain protocols which the Bolo had to follow when a Commander is available, and turned the long weapon-arms of the titan upward to lance energy into the retreating spheroids. If anything, they were of greater effect than the Bolo's Hellbores.

"Hopefully there won't be anymore, but I'll not bet on it," Tarna commented. "They all must be destroyed. Whatever this was was clearly a well-coordinated and planned assault, they knew what they were doing, but seems very... automated. A fair monkey wrench thrown into their plans might well throw them off..."

"Agreed," Vicky replied, taking implied consent from the other machine raining fire into the sky to add her own weight to it and savage the nearer elements of the fleet. That fire stopped suddenly though and clear surprise echoed through the gestalt as the fleet as a whole simply... vanished.


	14. That Which Remains

"What the... Where'd they go?" Tarna wondered, echoing her surprise. "Cloaked, retreating, or just regrouping?"

"Unknown, Commander," Vicky responded, searching through the network of sensory arrays available to her from onboard to military-emplaced ones throughout the sphere. "No evidence of their gravitic anomaly usage was detected, nor any hint of faint traces which might indicate cloaking technology even through the use of Elorai'isin arrays. To all appearances, they simply... ceased to exist."

"That's really weird..."

Tarna tried to see about using her unskilled Seeking to detect any traces of magic use, as she recalled that sort of thing to be possible only through Void Magic. There were traces of... something, though Tarna wasn't sure exactly what it was. Her attempt was sufficient, however, to determine that the fleet was neither cloaked nor fled to another location... it no longer existed.

Tarna tepped to Melaran, "Did you see that? Can you get a better reading on what happened to them? You're better at Seeking than me..."

"I'll try," Melaran replied, reaching out for some sign of what happened and clearly confused by the sudden strange occurrence as well. Surprise resounded as he replied after a few long moments, "The taste of it is Elorai'isin... Somehow, they're responsible for the fleet vanishing. It wasn't that they were destroyed, it's like... they never existed."

"Void Magic," Tarna replied. "Had to be. That's the only thing that could do that, that I know of. Are you alright over there?"

"Yeah, just more than a little confused," Melaran replied, "though I should have expected something when we left that... whatever it was back in the command center. At least the defense and repair systems look to be well-able to handle what was dished out."

Embarrassment colors the gestalt, and Vicky meekly offered an apology for the incident.

"It's not your fault," Tarna addressed primarily to Vicky. "Wish we'd had time to secure the area properly, but I don't think it would have helped much anyway. What about you? Will you be okay?"

"My internal repair systems will return me to within easily acceptable combat parameters in a reasonable timeframe, Commander," Vicky replied, 'acceptable' apparently meaning 90+% as the gestalt shows her estimations.

Tarna relaxed somewhat as it seems nobody else was about to shoot at them immediately, and tepped, "Well, if the Elorai'isin helped us, perhaps we should go thank them... or at least figure out what the hell is going on." Her thoughts betrayed a tinge of distrust. She still didn't really trust the Elorai'isin.

"Barring extra-orbital transit," Vicky replied, "I estimate a two point three four six month transit to their sector. While I am capable of performing such maneuvers, I am unsure as to our ally." There were still a great many questions which lurk in the depths of the Bolo's mind, but she shielded them away for the moment.

Tarna smirked mentally. "I'm surprised they haven't said anything else by now, either..." Tarna quietly wished she were away from here, away from these crazy elves, and back with the crazy Elkandu who she could at least trust to do stupid things on a regular basis. She nonetheless relaxed somewhat and thought, "If you want to ask something, please do so, I _will_ answer, and the immediate danger seems passed."

The Bolo seemed unsure and uncertain, the reasons for questioning ones acknowledged, accepted, and, with the command center gone, unchangeable, Commander were few. The Mark XL had been endowed with a greater capacity than any of its predecessors, however, and she finally asked simply, "Who and, as importantly, _what_ are you, Commander?"

"I am a psychically capable human from the planet of Khizsalr in the Elkandu Universe," Tarna replied. '"I am capable of changing between human and Eldar forms at will, as is Melaran, but I was not born that race. I am an Elkandu, a term in my home universe for a being of any race capable of a certain level of psychic/magical abilities. In Elkandu terms, my talents are Mind, Dream, and Motion."

"I see," Vicky replied thoughtfully. "Which would imply that you are indeed not from this universe at all, and the originally assumed status was, if perhaps not deliberately, false." She fell silent for a few seconds, a span of time incredibly long for the mind that Tarna could feel at work, then continued quietly, "However, as humanity appears to have fallen, I can find no reason to refute or refuse your authority, Commander."

"As I said before, I'm not really from around here. Another place, another timeline, where different things happened, perhaps things turned out better there. Melaran is from another timeline as well, a different one than I, one apparently designated the 'Warhammer' universe by the Elkandu for unknown reasons."

"It does not matter, Commander," Vicky replied. "The matter is resolved within acceptable parameters. What are your orders for proceeding from this point?"

"I'd very much like to be back there at this point," Tarna replied honestly. "But first, one way or another, the Elorai'isin..." She tepped over to Melaran about that.

"Hmm," Melaran replied, thinking it over. "The titan does appear to be able to attain orbit, though I have no clue what its capabilities are beyond that. Hate to leave it here, and barring any intervention by outside forces..." he began, someone clearly being of at least partial jester nature as the universe twisted around them and they found themselves suddenly standing among the fields at the foot of the Elorai'isin mountains.

Their ship was nearby, apparently undisturbed, but Tarna could sense that Vicky had gone into furiously analytical mode at the sudden change of location. Location, vector of change, a variety of other variables were being assessed at a blinding speed.

"Well, that's convenient," Tarna observed.

"Naturally," replied Melaran with clear exasperation, the sheer amount of power needed to transport them this distance in short order after eliminating that fleet leaving him annoyingly questioning regarding just _why_ they needed their assistance in this at _all_.

Tarna didn't bother questioning it, herself, being far too used to powerful people being flaky and eccentric about various things. If anything, _that_ at least felt normal out of all of this, if annoying.

"Are you prepared for your final journey?" asked the Eldest. "A long road have you followed, and nearly to its end have you stepped. What may await you, whether despair or enlightenment, is wholly left within the domain of your own souls."

Perhaps it was the multiple links involved, or maybe just something that was slipping through, but the contact seemed tired and edged with dark hints of sorrow.

"I do hope that isn't a euphemism for death," Tarna replied, wholly wanting to be out of here and home again, assuming that involves being alive while she does so.

"In some measure, yes," the Eldest replied, a flicker of amusement lighting and then dying as suddenly away. "Yet not in the sense that you may fear. Your purpose here is complete, children, and I would show you the whole of it before ending the game which was laid out, calculated, and found in the end to be wanting."

"Oh no, not more games," Tarna replied with a touch of a mental groan. "Sigh. What is it?"

"You have already played, dear girl," the Eldest replied softly. "There is no more reason to pursue it further, as the flame was insufficient to rekindle that which was shadowed ages ago and descended inevitably into darkness. I had surely hoped that else might transpire, yet even my Sight could find no better prospect than that which had presented itself."

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Tarna wondered. "What's going on here?"

"I have used you poorly," the Eldest replied gently, "and for this are you owed more than apology, yet such is all which may be offered to atone for that which has passed. You came to this universe through random chance, and were seized upon as an avenue by which purpose might well be re-kindled... too little, too late," she mourned.

"I don't understand," Tarna replied. "What's wrong? What purpose?"

"Come," the Eldest replied simply, once again the universe bending to her whim as they found themselves somewhere else entirely. The chamber was massive and clearly of human design, a command center on a far grander scale than the one that they'd seen on the military base. Myriad screens looked out on the various sectors across the sphere, data regarding status and requests flashing on many of them...

Yet it would seem that they would go unheeded and unseen, as the command couch at the center was occupied by a form clothed in the tattered remnants of a Hegemony Survey command uniform, its sky blue as faded as the bleached bone which inhabited it. That was not all, however, as the Eldest stood silently gazing at the assembled group of _four_ humanoids, Tarna and Melaran of course, but they were not alone.

A fair-complected elven male clad in brilliant and elegant armor stood beside Melaran, while a human woman with rich red hair and startling green eyes stood near Tarna, both looking around with expressions of shock.

Tarna looked over in surprise at the others, extremely confused on the matter. Just when things were starting to make sense... "I'd prefer an explanation to an apology..."

"And so you shall have one," the Eldest replied in a gentle voice for the benefit of all those present so as to add as little confusion beyond what they already experienced. "See before you the last of man's follies in this place, for the alien and merciless Xichee had hunted those who remained throughout the universe to extinction thousands of years ago.

"You..." She motioned toward the other woman and inclines her head. "You have served your duty and honor well, having vanquished the race which had brought the slender reed standing against the maelstrom of time to annihilation. Your creators would have risen once more, as you surmised, but they were swept before the locusts of death without pity or hesitation.

"Humanity, in its way, shall be mourned in its passing," she finished quietly, gently touching the shoulder of the skeleton. "This one found a great Sphere and claimed it as his own, those who had once reveled in the light of its star having dimmed in their own way and departed wholly into the twilight realms. His motivations were petty, but not without merit, a fair representation of what humankind had managed to achieve over the ages."

Tarna looked oddly at the other woman for a moment, then back to the Eldest, not really understanding what she's saying. Had she missed something here? She figured she probably missed quite a lot of things here, and wasn't surprised at that assessment.

"Your part," the Eldest turned to look at Tarna directly, "Was born of fate and chance, the rogue winds of the ethereal bringing you within the sphere which I call my own. To see such a flame, a gift beyond price which had been bestowed and then foolishly rejected by distant kin... it gave birth to a song of hope and joy which I had not heard in a great many years."

She sighed softly and smiled. "There were yet those of my children who remained here, and it was to rekindle their flame which I turned your own, shaping your destiny to that purpose in all things. Their awakening and rise to vengeance was heartening indeed, and yet..." She lifted a hand before her, palm cupped, and then turned it over as though pouring water from it. "Their spirit dimmed once more once purpose was achieved.

"Great hope did I have that you might inspire them, to return a flicker of life which you have lent to others along your path knowing or unknown. It was not to be, however, and the last of my children has turned their back and departed for the darkness, leaving only the one who brought them forth in the beginning to mourn what was and shall never again be."

"I don't understand. I was hardly even there for a few hours..." Tarna said in confusion. "What was I supposed to do?" She sighed.

"Shhh, child," the Eldest soothed gently. "You did all and more that I had any right to ask or place you in the path of. Your passage in this universe was orchestrated from the beginning, to bring you within contact with elements which I considered useful to the intended purpose. You reacted admirably and acted with great bravery and honor, and it was that which I hoped to refresh the spirits of my own retreating children.

"Their fate is not at your hand, nor is it rightly at mine though I will question that eternally in the shadows of a desolate and lifeless husk where many races ones strode among the stars. I did not mislead you when I spoke of your Chaos gods, for their number were indeed known here, but were absorbed into myself and distilled, purified to ease their burden upon those who would else have fallen to their lusts."

Tarna sighed softly and looked to the floor, but at least she wasn't complaining or demanding explanations now. "So... now what, then? What will become of them? What of... us?" she glanced uncertainly to the others there, still wondering absently just what that might mean.

"I will return you wherever you wish," the Eldest replied, grinning faintly. "Somehow I doubt that the gods of your own universe will object too greatly to a brief intrusion, certainly not one which returns such valued members to their fold unharmed. The two who are suspected as known shall have their own decision to make as well, legacies of both departed races should be given that much at the least."

Tarna gave a slight nod, thinking she understood finally, at least in part. She said quietly, "It would be Torn Elkandu, then, I believe. We could find our way from there to... wherever." She thought of Khizsalr, and tried to remember when the last time she was even there, that they were traveling to when thrown so wildly off course.

"Consider it for a time," the Eldest replied gently, waving the remnants in the command chair from existence. "I have yet to decide the fate of those who reside within this sphere and will need ponder it further. Be certain, and when you are prepared then you need only speak it... as you should know by now." She chuckled softly, walking away from the chair and taking the Elven man by the arm, "We have a few things to discuss."

He looked confused, but the Eldest didn't seem inclined to hesitation in anything that she did and they vanish after a brief nod to Tarna and Melaran.

Tarna sighed and said to nobody in particular, "Just when things were starting to make sense..." She glanced over toward her company again and said, "Well..."

"What a waste," Melaran snorted lightly, walking over to take a look at the command couch thoughtfully. "If what she said is right, and I have no reason to doubt it, all that's left in this whole universe is right here on this sphere, and even the Elorai'isin are gone..." He shook his head and repeated himself, "What a waste."

Vicky, as the human woman might have been identified as by now, had remained thoughtfully silent throughout and only know looked puzzled as she reached up to touch the streak of crystalline tears at her cheek. To suspect, even to have it confirmed, was nothing beside the absolute and indisputable knowledge that all which had been known was gone. Thousands upon thousands of years of history for nothing...

"There's nothing you could have done," Tarna said gently to her. "There's countless universes out there, it had to happen in some of them..." She sighed a bit. "Nothing to be done about it but to move on, I guess. I miss Khizsalr, and Edron, even Torn Elkandu..."

"Where does one move to," Vicky asked softly, the familiar voice sealing it, "when all that you have known is gone? You speak of distant places and longing for them, but where does one go when memory fails and they are forsaken by the sands of time? I have been given a choice, silently spoken by this... god, I have to assume, and I cannot say that I would remain thus rather than returning to the form to which I was made."

"Well, that's up to you," Tarna said with a bit of a shrug. "There's all the universe out there, what's a home but a place to call your own? I left Khizsalr when I was still a girl, to go learn from the Elkandu... and I've barely been back there since. For all I know, they're all dead and gone by now. But I don't regret it."

"Think about it," Melaran added. "You heard her, she's willing to wait as long as it takes to make up your mind. Me..." He grinned and shrugged, glancing over at Tarna. "Guess I'm stuck with wherever _she_ decides to go. Not like there's a huge reason to go rushing here or there anymore. Out of curiosity, though," he lifted a brow, "Why Torn Elkandu again? Didn't we just get _out_ of there before this crazy detour?"

Tarna smirked faintly. "Well, for starters, nobody was shooting at us there. Which is as good a reason as any, eh? Plus it's an easy stopping-off point to Khizsalr, or Lezaria, or any number of other planets."

"Well yeah, the whole not getting shot at thing is a definite bonus," Melaran replied, then smirked. "Though I wouldn't lay bets on that holding true any time in the near future the way things have been lately. Anyway, why not just skip over to Khizsalr and avoid the possibility of yet another freak Warp storm to throw us who knows where?"

Tarna gave a shrug. "That works too, I suppose." Not that she realized it at the moment, but their chances of avoiding being shot at there were pretty low too.

Melaran chuckled quietly and shrugged. "Whatever you desire, m'lady, I'm merely along to provide the occasional bit of target practice and interpretation when it comes to the Eldar and their mindset... disturbing as that might be." He snorted.

Tarna snickered softly. "Yeah, I'll just say, no more vacations. And absolutely _no_ more games with people's lives." Tarna sighed. "They're not fun and they're not funny." She shook her head a bit and glanced over toward Vicky pensively.

"Yeah," Melaran agreed quietly, and shook his head. "If only we could get some kind of guarantee from the powers that be that we wouldn't end up being tossed that way again. Riiiight."

Vicky was walking slowly around the room, stopping here and there to examine the displays and instruments that were humming quietly to themselves or the few that have blackened for lack of repair. She didn't know what the last hours had been like for the man who had founded this place. Would his name even be on record somewhere? She didn't know, and was uncertain as to how best she might honor all that had gone before.

"Divine intervention?" Tarna gave a shrug. "Meh. I don't care. I'm just sick of being toyed with. Enough is enough already. At least with Bob I'd agreed to it. But maybe some good might have come of it some way or another..."

"Maybe." Melaran shrugged. "Damned if I know what it could be though, other than maybe freeing our friend over there and the Elorai'isin titan... didn't have a chance to catch his name. Ah well, perhaps she'll do something with the ones who got trapped here. Kinda be surprised if she doesn't."

"I hope so... but at least they're alive and more or less safe, right?" Tarna said dubiously. "Not much more we could do for them..."

"Like she said, we did all that we could and then some," Melaran replied. "Getting sick of all the games, all the little mysteries, and really think it's time to just go. So, what's your call, m'lady. I live to serve." He grinned crookedly and bowed.

Tarna sniggered at him. "Well, I guess that depends. What does our friend over there want to do?" She looked over toward Vicky again expectantly, and a little hopefully.

Vicky blinked and looked back over at them, realizing she was being addressed. "To be honest, I do not know," she replied. "Though I think perhaps it would be interesting to see something of what humanity has accomplished in other realms, perhaps set myself once more to their service and defense. The long line of honorable service pursued by the Brigade would seem to recommend that course of action."

"Well, if you're looking for humans, I could certainly help there. I know of a good number of places where they're yet alive and well, some of which might not even shoot us on sight!"

"And I think I might borrow a trick from another place," the Eldest said, walking from the shadows and grinning faintly. "Though not quite to such an unlimited degree as a prankster considered prudent. Thrice may you change and decide, wending your way across the worlds to see that which you seek, until at last you recognize what at heart is your home."

Vicky just looked at her for a moment and blinks, "What?"

Tarna chuckled softly. "Be careful, at this rate I might just end up becoming fluent in vaguese. I might be wrong, of course, but I do believe she means whether you wish to be a human or a machine."

"I see," Vicky replied thoughtfully, carefully considering the idea and the potential merits of being able to shift forms if even on a limited basis. "That would allow for ease of travel and examination of the societies which are present, a most useful ability. My thanks."

"That gift has already been given the other," the Eldest replied, "and hence has he wended to domains and places unknown and most dire. Ever the whim of fate and the gods to turn the calmest of waters to a raging sea." She chuckles softly, then sighs, looking back to Tarna, "Where then shall you go. What destination draws your heart unto it as though a flame to the wick?"

"I believe it'll be back to Khizsalr for the moment for me, then," Tarna replied. "For whatever might greet me there..."

"As you wish," the Eldest replied quietly and smiled. "Do not remember this journey with bitterness, I pray, as soon enough shall the fates call upon you to pursue matters of import and dire deeds. Such is the way of life and its pursuit for the flame, remain ever unquenched..." she finished softly.


	15. No Home for Wanderers

The world twisted one final time to deposit Melaran and Tarna on the distant world of Khizsalr. And it would appear that Vicky accompanied them as well. They appeared to have been teleported inside about the safest place on Khizsalr that they might be, in the courtyard of a heavily defended fortress that appeared to have seen its better days regardless.

The armed guards glanced over to them, see that they didn't have green skin, and went back to guarding again. They weren't what they're guarding against. The guards were dressed in armor vaguely reminiscent of ancient Rome, in white and bronze with a bit of red. They were wielding spears and have short swords at their belts as well.

"Right," Melaran said, looking the guards over and then shaking his head as he headed for the ship. "I'm all for getting back into armor and proper weapons before something else decides to leap out and try to eat us."

One of the guards apparently overheard him and said reassuringly, "We will not allow harm to befall you within the protection of the Archwizard's Palace. The foul Orks cannot penetrate this fortress."

"Orks..." Melaran muttered and opened the hatch to climb in, continuing to mutter as he went about getting his normal attire back in place. "Definitely not going out there or anywhere around here without armor then. Crazy gods I can deal with. Orks are another level entirely."

Tarna chuckled softly and agreed with that sentiment, and the armor. She proceeded to go in and do likewise. The guards were, apparently, human. They even had those silly helmets with plumes on them and the metal thing sticking out over their noses, too.

"I presume the technological development of this planet is insufficient to warrant the protection of more durable body armors and provide long-ranged weapons?" Vicky asked, following them in and clearly interested in the military aspect of the setting even now.

Melaran chuckled, climbing comfortably back into the Swooping Hawk armor and settling it in place. "Don't take anything at face value. This place is crazy."

Tarna replied, "The technology might appear medieval, but the use of magic and enchantments makes up for that lack. Those guards there, all their armor and weapons are likely to be at least minimally enchanted, especially if they've held off the Orks..."

"And Orks, in case you're wondering," Melaran added, snapping his helm into place and securing his weapons, "Are big, green, ugly, and smell bad. They're also about as intelligent as... well, come to think of it, there's nothing I really want to insult enough to compare them to. Just all-around unpleasant, and I really wonder what the hell they're doing _here_."

"I have nary a clue," Tarna replied. "But I would reckon they probably need killing, eh?" Tarna chuckled softly. "The Archwizard's Palace may have held up against them, but I dread to think what might be going on elsewhere... especially if they have flying vehicles. The Walls weren't intended to stop _that_..."

"Yeah well, that's all to the good," Melaran replied, "But personally I'm in favor of finding your family, getting them packed up, and letting the local military deal with them. We've gotten shot at, blown up, nearly sliced into pieces, and all sorts of other unpleasant things lately. I don't see any real reason to step right back up and offer ourselves to it again without reason, do you?"

Vicky looked at Melaran strangely at that, the concept of _not_ doing something to help the inhabitants of this planet against their Enemy an utterly alien concept.

Tarna looked at him strangely as well. "Bah, at least it's just Orks this time and not crazy gods. The Orks will just shoot at us, not try to confuse us until our heads implode. But I'll show you to the map room for a good overview of the land, maybe they have noted there just where all these Orks are and what the status of the provinces is."

Melaran's expression was unreadable behind the sharp mask of the hawk, but his groan was eloquent enough as he looked from one to the other of them and finally rested his gaze on Tarna.

"You're serious, aren't you? Can't we let just one little disaster get solved in its own good time? You're going to be the death of me..." he finished with a mutter, but chuckled softly as he walked back out of the ship.

It just wouldn't be the same woman he knew and loved were she not to do so, he supposed, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel just a touch exasperated about it now and again. Seeing Vicky emerge with a much brighter expression only made him realize more that he was in deeper trouble than ever before.

Tarna laughed aloud at that. She gave a gesture and led off past the guards down a corridor, clearly having been here before, and into a chamber with a large 3D holographic map projected above a table in the center of the room. An ancient robed human was smoking a pipe to one side of the room, and a couple guys in armor were talking quietly in another corner.

The map displayed provinces with names floating above them, and even showed tiny Orks moving across the landscape. There were shimmering golden forcefields separating some of the provinces. Some of the forcefields were weak, some were down altogether. Little towers sat at the corners of provinces. Some were intact, some had been destroyed, others damaged.

"Delightful," Melaran murmured, gesturing Tarna forward, "Care to note where your own family may be located? Their status would seem to be the first important note to discover."

Vicky merely absorbed the tactical information silently, the transformation clearly not having affected the analytical nature or inclinations inherent to her origins.

Tarna scanned over the names of the provinces toward where she remembered her own to have been, in the northeast part of the map. "There," she pointed to one. "Hilddmei Province." Three of the four towers surrounding it had been destroyed, only one remaining intact. The forcefields were down. The entire place was scorched and looks in fairly bad shape.

"I might have guessed," Melaran replied grimly, examining the area more closely and taking in what detail was available, then glanced aside to Tarna. "And you just had to mention the possibility of their crazy flying machines, didn't you? Have any inkling what that would imply? Enough of them around to develop the bigger, nastier sorts with cannons that will shoot your average fighter out of the air."

Not that he was particularly worried about their own ship, as the modifications Bob had put in in several regards would give them an edge as well as both his and Tarna's abilities in regards to reinforcing the shields.

"Rohar's Tower is still intact," Tarna observed, pointing to the tower in the southwest corner of the province. "He's doubtless been doing a good job of protecting the people there. They probably took refuge inside the tower when the Orks came."

"Well that's a place to start, at any rate," Melaran replied. "Maybe find your relatives and get an idea how we're going to tackle this shiny new distraction-slash-disaster that you seem hell-bent on leaping into..." He chuckled and sighed. "Alright, any other thoughts that come immediately to mind before we embark on this crusade?"

"Rohar makes good tea," Tarna said randomly, then giggled at the look he gave her and said defensively, "Hey, you did ask!"

"Oh, well that should certainly prove of definite advantage," Melaran replied, the smirk evident in his tone. "I'm sure we can just invite the Orks in for a lovely cup of tea and a chat about why they should go find somewhere else to rampage and destroy. You're crazy, you know that?" He grunted in amused exasperation. "Let's get to it, then, no reason not to leap right in and get shot at some more."

Vicky watched the two of them silently, having memorized the map and the likely outdated intelligence it provided nearly instantly, and pondered the oddities of human behavior. She was a far cry from the earlier Marks that had been developed with self-awareness, but that didn't provide a great deal of experiential reference in regards to interactions not held on deadly ground.

Tarna chuckled and gave a nod, and headed out toward the ship again, flashing a bit of a grin at Vicky on the way. The guards continued to stand around guarding and making sure no random people tried to make off with it or anything, not that that was entirely necessary anyway.

Melaran chuckles lightly as they approached and he noticed the guard's attention to the ship, offering them a polite nod as he climbed back aboard. He rather suspected that it would be quite difficult to make off with this particular ship. There were still things and occasional surprises that were found left laying around by Bob... rather pity the poor creature that tried it, in between bouts of laughter. He settled in one of the control chairs and set power to the various systems, waiting for everyone else to get settled before taking off and setting a course in the direction Tarna's designated.

Hilddmei Province was located off to the northeast from the Archwizard's Palace. Nothing particularly large and nasty awaited them to shoot them out of the sky, although some ground-based artillery did take a couple potshots in their general direction as they flew within range. Nothing hits, though.

"I'm holding your personally responsible if I end up messily dead, you know," Melaran remarked offhandedly, checking the status of the shields out of habit as they bypassed one of the shooting zones. His attention was otherwise fully engaged in keeping an eye out for other things that might think they made a tempting target and avoiding large concentrations of Orks that would signify particular nastiness.

They manage to reach Rohar's Tower without further incident, however it appeared to be under assault at the moment by a fairly large group of Orks. The heavily enchanted outer walls around the tower continued to hold them off, however, and the portcullises leading inside were all firmly closed. There was a courtyard between the outer wall and the tower itself large enough to land in. The shields around it apparently recognized them as friendly and didn't inhibit their approach.

Never one to approach a friendly establishment without offering some measure of payment, Melaran brought the ship around at an angle that would provide a suitable vector of fire without endangering the tower itself.

"Care to remove the unwanted guests?" he asked lightly.

"I would be delighted," Tarna replied.

She proceeded to fire weapons down into the green-skinned horde outside. Her first shots hit only dirt, but then she managed to strike cleanly at the Orks and obliterate them, including blowing up a couple smaller vehicles as well.

"That should deter them for the immediate future, at least," Melaran nodded in satisfaction.

Their course determined, he had clearly accepted it and was willing to go along with it... it was Tarna who had asked, after all. He completed a circuit around the tower, visually checking as well as setting sensors to look for any further sign of Orkish nuisance. They appear to have cleared out the worst of the infestation in the immediate vicinity. They proceeded to land in the courtyard uneventfully and Tarna went to climb out.

The courtyard was deserted except for a goat casually munching on the yellowed grass, seemingly oblivious to the explosions and various screams of "WAAGH!" that were recently going on outside.

Nothing leaping out to shoot at them... Melaran mused that he was either returning to a semblance of Eldar paranoia or Tarna's insistence on dwelling on the topic was rubbing off on him. Either way, he climbed out and went to take a look around, searching for any signs of intelligent life, as the goat clearly didn't qualify. Vicky trailed after, silently observing all details of the medieval setting with interest. There was nothing apparently intelligent in the courtyard, aside from them, but nearby a portcullis leading into the tower clattered open to admit them entry.

"Ah, nice of him, don't even have to ring the doorbell," Tarna commented, heading over that way.

Although the corridor they enter was lit by torches, the torches had a distinct mystical feel to them and emitted no smoke nor did they actually burn.

"Out of curiosity," Melaran remarked, passing into the corridor and continuing onward, the more familiar senses feeling the magic in the air and casually glancing about at the occasional weave with Seeking. "Is there _anything_ in this universe that isn't dependent on magic or some sort of unusual power?"

His step faltered as he passed across Vicky and stared at her for a moment with the non-mundane Sight... Were the colors of her aura something the Eldest had done, he wonders, or a facet of what the humans had built into their simple 'machine'?

"Oh, sure," Tarna replied. "But we _are_ in an Archmage's tower, after all, and one of the best there is. Friendliest, too. What is it?" she said, noticing his momentary distraction.

"Of course," Melaran replied with a chuckle, continuing onward before tepping a reply to her other question, 'Merely wondering whether the Eldest was responsible for the colors of Mind and Seeking I noted in our companion's aura, or whether it had something to do with the way she was originally created. But if the Elorai'isin could do that and more with their computers, why not a simpler form with the human machines?'

"I don't see why not. Suzcecoz could certainly do it..." Tarna replied.

The corridor shortly led them to a room in which a man was stirring a large cauldron with a bubbling purple liquid. He was wearing a blue robe, and his small, pointed ears clearly marked him as a half-elf. A mirror-like amulet hung around his neck.

Melaran merely shook his head in musing amazement at the concept of humanity creating unique and valuable life, all placed within a shell capable of withstanding the ravages of ages. He set it aside as they encounter the half-elf, however, offering a polite nod in greeting.

"Good day, sorry if we've come at a bad time but Tarna here was looking for her family, apparently they were settled around here..."

Unfortunately, he'd seen far too often what remained on worlds the Ork hordes had descended upon and he held little hope that her kin might have survived. Better to know and deal with the reality than to forever wonder.

"Ah, hello, and welcome to my tower. I am the Archmage Rohar. I must thank you for removing those creatures from outside my tower. Yes, a number of people from the surrounding provinces have taken refuge in the protection of my tower. You might find some of them here, but from the casualty rate..." he trailed off and stared into the cauldron.

"I understand," Melaran replied quietly, than very deliberately brightened his demeanor as he continued. "More than glad to help with the Orks at the door, though, they're a pestilence that I've dealt with on far too many worlds. Have to say that I'm impressed you've managed to keep them at bay so successfully, masterfully done!"

Vicky was well aware of the nuances which were involved, possessing a vast database on general psychology, and was silently approving of the lighter approach that was taken. Morale was an important thing for creatures of flesh and blood, whether that would have any effect would be interesting to study in the shifting patterns of her sight that she merely accepted as normal.

Rohar said, "Aye, enchantments and magic. My latest project is on some cannons which will spray super-heated fluid over a large number of attackers, dissolving their flesh and hopefully rendering their machines inoperative." He indicated the boiling cauldron, which was turning a glowing orange color now. "Would you care for some tea?" he asked politely.

Melaran considered it for a moment, really not certain he wanted to spend any more time on this planet than was absolutely required, but... it wouldn't hurt to share a cup of tea, and give the man something else to think about for a while.

"If it's not too much trouble," he replied, reaching up to remove his helmet and smiling. "We've had a really interesting last couple days, a nice cup of something warm would be welcome."

"Certainly, certainly," Rohar said, going over to a teakettle and pouring some tea. Tarna happily opted for the tea as well. He handed them their cups and looked over to Vicky and asked, "What about you, would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please," Vicky replied, watching the man interestedly and making note of the subtle changes in stance and body language which accompany the simple hospitality ritual. Routines and normal actions were ever a steadying factor for biological beings, a fact which she had used on more than one occasion to steady a fellow soldier in campaigns past.

Melaran accepted the cup with a grateful nod, settling at ease to sip at it. "Many thanks," he said lightly. "Is there anything you can tell us about the current situation which might prove of interest? We're not precisely without some resources when it comes to dealing with the Orks, as you clearly saw."

Rohar poured her some tea as well and handed her the cup. Tarna took a sip of her own tea. Rohar said, "There are a great many of them, and they just seem to keep coming. But there were more of them until around a month ago. My scryings indicated they constructed an enormous vessel of some sort and left..."

"They created a space hulk?" Melaran groaned. "They could be spreading who knows where by now! Although, I suppose that will make the problem of eradicating them here considerably more simple. The more advanced Orks are the ones to worry about, and they're always the first to go when they take off from a planet. Shouldn't mean more than digging out the infestation and sweeping out the remnants."

Vicky sniffed at the tea experimentally, knowing that humans required fluids and food just as she normally required power and reactor mass. She sipped at it tentatively, then drank it more energetically, a part of her attention absorbing the data associated with these 'Orks' which were clearly an alien species to be labeled as the Enemy. The tea was a tasty combination of herbs indigenous to this region.

Rohar gave a nod. "I feared as much when I detected them leaving. I attempted to warn Torn Elkandu to be alert for them, but I received no response. I suppose I should not be surprised. They were never particularly useful all in all."

"From what I've seen and heard," Melaran replied with a chuckle. "That assessment doesn't really surprise me. Definitely good news for here, though, and the hulk, well..." He shrugged, taking a sip of the tea and savoring it for a moment. "One step at a time. Those things can be stuck travelling from system to system for hundreds of years, though we never really figured out how they moved them at all. Crazy Orks."

"I'm hoping that they wind up on Sasherey or someplace," Rohar said brightly, to which Tarna snickered. He turned and sprinkled something into the cauldron, which turned a vivid electric blue. "Hmm, almost ready for testing."

Melaran drained the last of his tea, chuckling softly. "Well we'll leave you to it then, and hope that you don't have any need to use it. C'mon," he glanced over to his companions, "Let's see if we can't find any familiar faces, shall we?"

The news of the hulk departure was indeed good and bad, but the prospects were at least better for the immediate future with the bulk of the "Big 'Uns" gone.

Vicky gulped the rest of her tea quickly, finding the sensation of taste oddly enjoyable beyond what her sensors could normally provide, and returned the cup with an attempt at a smile. "Thank you."

Tarna finished her tea as well and gives a wave-bow at Rohar and headed for the stairs beyond the chamber. The twisting, winding corridors and staircases of the tower were easy enough to get lost in, and they passed several others as they go, primarily humans.

Melaran followed quietly after, not failing to notice the inevitably drawn expressions and tattered spirits of those who lived beneath the shadow of an Ork invasion. He would do what he could, but at the moment that entailed merely being there should a familiar face present itself to Tarna or, more likely he was grimly certain, that there would be none.

Vicky made note of the humans in passing, assessing their overall condition and morale through criteria and senses developed a very long time ago. Unlike Melaran, she had no intention of leaving this planet until the infestation of the Enemy had been eradicated by whatever means was necessary. To defend and protect, that was the greater part of honor to the Brigade.

The corridors led them to a mess hall several floors up in the tower. Around twenty humans and a couple elves were present, eating and talking in subdued voices. Tarna glanced over the the faces present and her gaze rested on one young human man sitting off to one side.

She said quietly, "There's my cousin, Tracker."

"Perhaps he has news," Melaran prompted gently, nudging her in that direction and then heading that way himself. That was a positive note, at least, though whether the news might be good or bad was anyone's guess.

The man glanced up from his porridge as they approach and, unsurprisingly, didn't recognize them. His talents were very weak Time-Seeking. "Hello. Can I help you with something?" he said.

"Greetings," Melaran offered quietly, "We have reason to be interested in the Tanson family. Might you possess information regarding them?"

He left Tarna's identity to her to confirm or deny, the relationship she shared with her kin not being a subject which they had covered in any great detail. Vicky looked at Tarna for a moment, then analyzed the human's likely relation and likelihood of identifying her. Question null and resolved.

"I'm Tracker Tanson," he said. "What about them? I think the others might be up on floor six or seven, thereabouts."

"I recently encountered Tarna," Melaran replied, carefully weighing truth and extent to which he might step within the bounds of what he knew. "She had expressed curiosity as to their well-being, and as we were in the neighborhood and made aware of the problem nearby, thought we'd drop in and check on them. Favor for a friend." A favor he'd be collecting, she could bet on it, he mused mirthfully.

"Tarna? What sort of trouble has that crazy girl been getting herself into lately?" He chuckled softly. "Well, no need to worry. Ol' Gramps had us evacuate to the Tower to the minute the greenskins set foot on the planet. We're all safe and sound."

"You would not _believe_ the trouble she's found, been part of, and caused," Melaran replied dryly and chuckled, the news a refreshing change from what he had expected on arriving here. He offered a polite bow to the man. "Your news is most welcome, thank you. I'm sure she'll find it a great relief to hear."

"Knowing her, I probably would," Tracker replied with a knowing smirk. "Safe journey."

Tarna did her best to look utterly innocent. Melaran directed them onward, in the direction that these stairs upward might be found he hoped, and managed to make it to a quiet turn before grinning at Tarna.

"That'll teach you to leave the introductions to me," he said quietly, the grin softening to a smile. "So, are you satisfied in knowing of their well-being, or would you seek a reunion with your kin in a form which they might acknowledge?"

Tarna sniggered softly. "Oh, no, that's quite alright. _Quite_ alright. Last time I brought a man to my father, he insisted on ensuring that said male was not a virgin himself... there are some very strange local customs around here."


	16. Epilogue

Time meant nothing and yet everything, the ultimate paradox to those who paid no more heed to its passage than they might the blink of an eye or an indrawn breath. All had been born a mere moment before, it seemed, and yet it had become brittle and broken millennia ago... The Eldest, knowing and recognizing all which was and had been and mourning what would never be, set herself to seeing to the final aspects of the tattered skein.

There were other ways by which she might have approached it, but she found it somehow fitting to arrive as a supplicant in the temple of a God which the people of this land considered mad and unwise to draw the attention of. Her appearance has been softened, gone the bloody armor she had witnessed the end of her kind clad in, reverting instead to the simple pure white robes which she had born when first awaking so long ago.

Eyes shadowed with deep thought and sorrow unspoken turn to study the fanciful decorations of Shazmar's temple in Torn Elkandu... a part of her envying the pulse of vitality which she could taste so tantalizingly near, even as another wailed deep within for that loss in distant times.

Shazmar promptly shimmered into existence sitting cross-legged on top of a game table. He cocked his head up at her and said, "Hi!"

"Greetings," the Eldest replied politely, offering a graceful curtsey. "My apologies for arriving without forewarning, as I am certain there are many matters which require your attention as there are ever wont to be. I come humbly to ask favor of another from distant lands, that all which has gone before not needfully return to the shadows which await them."

"Oh, don't worry, I knew you were coming," Shazmar said brightly, grinning playfully at her.

The Eldest chuckled lightly, though it was edged with the ever present melancholy which now served as a veil. "So I should expect," she replied softly, "And well may you guess the reason of my journey here, my trespass unbidden in your own domain." She turned away, the sight of him stirring ancient memory, and folded her arms about herself as she continued, "Nothing remains of that which was held within my hand. Save only the garden which one race brought into being and another turned to its own purpose. I would not see those who dwell within lost to the gathering darkness which awaits me."

Shazmar tilted his head a bit and said, "And in the Temporal Convergence that brings all worlds together, it is already on its way to be so. But there is no need for darkness. The universe lives, and will always be, ever renewed and ever changing."

"Indeed it is so," the Eldest replied, a sad smile curving her lips unseen. "Yet no mother should outlive her children, it is not the natural order of things. I cannot in good conscience, however, depart into that long dark while the few scattered remnants of the flickering life which once glowed as brightly as the stars yet remains untended, suspended between the moments of breath and awaiting the fall of the executioner's axe. Some few remain who may yet learn the wisdom garnered of ages, adapting to the greater part of the universes which may be opened to them, and I would see them given the opportunity should they choose to reach out and grasp it. Only one, the Karthan, do I already know would find the forests of fair Lezaria and the spirits which once resided there to be of untold beauty and kindred soul."

Shazmar smiled faintly, then looked off soberly. "You may find things may not always be so lost and hopeless as you believe them to be, however. Nothing ever is, really. I never failed to wonder why the others slumbered while I watched over this universe. Then after centuries of silence, they do something, and disappear again..."

"Perhaps one day shall they return from the twilight lands," the Eldest replied, "and joy shall spring from my heart should it come to pass. I do not foresee that event coming to pass, however, only silence and darkness enveloping the lanes of space which were once bright with life. So too, even the gods must rest and return to the void which spawned them, nothing is truly eternal."

"Ah, who cares about eternity? You miss out on a lot of things that way. Sides, that's why I implemented the whole rebirth system, after all. So that things can constantly renew themselves, and don't get to that point."

"You have done remarkably well by your children," she replied, turning back and dismissing the greater part of the melancholy with an effort. "Certainly an accomplishment to hold great pride in, that even gifts from other universes might come to enter your own sphere willingly, shedding their light upon all those they pass. Perhaps what I ask will bring a sliver more to claim joy in to you."

"Certainly," Shazmar said, "I will most welcome them here. There is, however, one thing I might ask. There is one of my own children, I suspect he may yet live somewhere, but I do not know where... I seem to have misplaced him." He smirked wryly at the idea of that.

"Oh?" Elorai inquired, lifting a delicate brow. "Beyond the unlikelihood of misplacing such a soul, what more may be said that they might be identified if found?"

"His name is Vistri," Shazmar said. "He was originally born on Til'raine about three million years ago, and he was supposed to have been the one to awaken the El'dari from their millennia-long slumber on Lezaria. But he seems to have disappeared a few thousand years ago, most likely to one of the universes not fully connected with the Temporal Convergence yet, else I would have found him by now."

"I somehow doubt that he may be found within the shadows of my realm," Elorai replied softly. "But of certainty will I remain watchful for him, and turn my Sight to seeking him in lands beyond. Although..." She tilted her head in thought, then chuckled quietly. "Perhaps others of your adopted line may serve in greater capacity than any other, remembering a moment's discourse shared between them. Their path may doubtless be shaped to pursue that goal, if you so desire it."

Shazmar giggled faintly. "Oh, I'm sure they would _love_ that!" He giggled some more. "Okay. I will find places for those ones you mentioned and retrieve them, then."

"You have my thanks," Elorai replied, then approached him with a quietly intent expression, "As a final boon, might I ask a mere moment of illusion?"

"Hmm?" Shazmar asked.

Elorai merely smiled gently and drew nearer to enfold him in her arms, eyes closing to savor a momentary illusion of memory and what was. A gentle, lilting song touched her lips, speaking of distant lands and times for a brief moment.

Shazmar smiled faintly, and when she was done, he said quietly, "That is the true meaning of eternity, though. Memory, that nothing can ever erase or undo."

Drawing back, Elorai immediately turned away to hide the glisten of crystalline tears shed to the altar of that memory. "Indeed," she replied softly, savoring the illusion of the first which she had held so for a moment, then shook her head. "You are fortunate, though perhaps your very nature gives enough and beyond that fate decrees some measure of its return. Ever savor each moment, Shazmar, for memory is a bitter fruit."

Without further word or sign, she departed to return to the silence of her own domain, the shimmering tears falling as rain across countless barren worlds in her passing. She mourned her children, but knew even now that life would spring anew from that very pain.


End file.
